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4 






THE FRONTIER BOYS 

ON THE 

OVERLAND TRAIL 


BY 

CAPT. WYN ROOSEVELT 


ILLUSTRATED BY 

S. SCHNEIDER 




CHATTERTON-PECK COMPANY 
NEW YORK, N. Y. 




u> 


' Utl«ARY of {y}^♦iWF,-SS 
i wo Copies 

my n lyos 

viui* 

JL>4S» a aAc. «(>. 

2o '2. I S' 3 

OOHY 8, 


COPTKIGHT 1908 
BY 

CHATTERTON-PECK CO. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER . page 

1 . Westward Ho! 9 

II. The Alarm 15 

III. The Start 22 

IV. The Reconnoisance 30 

V. The First Round 38 

VI. Tom and the Missourian 47 

VII. We Meet Obstacles 53 

VIII. The Pursuit .......... 62 

IX. At Camp Again 70 

X. The Bully 78 

XI. The Quicksands 86 

XII. The Runaway 93 

XIII. We Meet a Friend ....... 102 

XIV. Plans for the Fourth ...... no 

XV. We Go in Training 118 

XVI. A Strange Story 126 

XVII. The House Among the Trees . . .135 

XVIII. A Game of Horseshoes 145 

XIX. The Fourth of July 153 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XX. The Race 169 

XXI. We Start Again 177 

XXII. “A Prairie Schooner" 185 

XXIII. A Close Call 193 

XXIV. The Sign of the Bowie Knife , . .201 

XXV. The Cyclone 208 

XXVI. Our First Antelope 220 

XXVII. The Strange Man 229 

XXVIII. The Overland 236 

XXIX. The Dry Creek 244 

XXX. Beyond the Divide— The Crossing . . 252 


THE FRONTIER BOYS ON 
THE OVERLAND TRAIL 

CHAPTER I 

WESTWARD ho! 

Hey, there, Tom, why did you hitch the trace 
under the off horse’s hind leg?” asked Jim, from 
the front seat of our prairie schooner. 

“ I didn’t ; I reckon the beast kicked over ; he is 
always doing that.” 

“ You fix it,” commanded Jim. 

“All right; but you are always kickin’,” Tom 
acquiesced. 

“ No, it’s old Bill, who does the kickin’,” retorted 
Jim. 

“ Does that suit you, boss ? ” asked Tom, as he 
lifted Bill’s stubborn hind leg into its proper place 
between the traces. Then with a crack of the long 
whip by the driver, we started briskly off. 

“All aboard. Pike’s Peak or bust,” I yelled, as 
we crossed the line into Kansas, with our horses’ 
heads turned westward, until at last, after many 
9 


10 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


adventures, we should reach the Rocky Mountains 
in Colorado, in search of the mine we believed was 
there for us. 

“ Did you mail that letter to the home folks,” 
inquired Jim of me. 

Sure I did,” I replied ; “ I mailed it before we 
left Kansas City.” 

“ Lucky you didn’t forget it,” remarked Jim, 

for we won’t see a postoffice again for some time.” 
These were the contents of the letter : 

Somewhere, Missouri, 

May 19th, 18 — . 

''Dear Folks , — 

We were mighty glad to get your letter at 
Sedalia and to hear that you and all our friends 
back east were well. Jim thanks you for remem- 
bering his birthday. He is quite proud because he 
is sixteen. But he does not have it much on Tom 
and I, because as we are twins our combined age 
of near thirty years gives us the advantage. Then, 
too, we have the distinction of being named for 
grandfather, who fought in the Revolutionary 
War. So Jim cannot boss us on the ground of his 
new birthday. 

“ We are having the time of our lives and haven’t 
been sick once, except Jim who ate too many paw- 
paws the other day. We got through Missouri all 


WESTWARD HO! 


II 


right, without being held up by Jesse James and 
his gang, but maybe they will catch us in Kansas. 
(Don’t read this to mother because she will worry.) 
We saw the place where they robbed a train on the 
Wabash last week. It was a mighty lonesome spot. 
A deep cut in the woods with a swamp nearby. 
They piled a lot of ties on the track and the head- 
light of the engine showed the ties just in time 
for the engineer to stop, with her nose almost 
against it. We were sure glad to get out of those 
woods, without being robbed. 

“ The horses are in fine shape and are as fat as 
butter. Old Bill sprained his hind leg by getting 
his foot caught when we were crossing a creek. 
We rested him for a day and he is all right now. 
Tom does the cooking and Jim and I look after 
the horses and do the foraging. 

Sometimes we feel as though we would like 
to be home and see the old town again and all the 
home folks. I wonder if our boys will win the 
pennant this year. I wish I was there to pitch 
for the team. That Morris school pitcher is a 
corker. He’s got an awful drop. But it was my 
high in-shoot that fooled them. No more baseball 
for us until we have made our fortunes in Colo- 
rado, then we will buy some new uniforms for the 
team and treat the girls to enough ice cream to 
last them a week. 


12 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


How is old Rover ? I should like to see him. 
We have a fine dog that a farmer gave Dan in 
Ohio. He is part Newfoundland (that is, the dog, 
not the farmer), and part collie. When this letter 
reaches you we will be in the wilds of Kansas and 
do not worry if you do not hear from us for some 
time. We have learned how to take care of our- 
selves. Love to all the folks from Tom, Jim and 
“ Your affectionate son, 

^'Jo Darlington.” 

So much for the letter. We will now continue 
our trip. 

I wonder if we will see any game to-day ? ” re- 
marked Jim. 

"'If we do it’s Tom’s turn to stay with the 
horses,” I said. 

" You can’t hit anything, not even the broadside 
of a barn, to say nothing of a deer or prairie 
chicken,” put in Tom. 

" That’s all right,” I replied, " it’s my turn any- 
way.” 

We were now trotting steadily along the prairie 
road. Suddenly Tom pulled the horses to a stand- 
still. 

“ There’s some prairie chickens, sitting on the 
fence posts,” he said. 

Immediately Jim and I grabbed our respective 


WESTWARD HO! 


13 


shotguns out of the back of the wagon. Cautiously 
we got off on the far side of the wagon and crawled 
along in the road screened by the tall grass and 
weeds. 

Don’t shoot until I say fire,” cautioned Jim in 
a stage whisper. However, I did not wait for the 
word of command but let fly when I was within 
fifty yards of the nearest bird. Instantly the heavy 
bundles of gray feathers whirred a short distance 
into the air. Dan brought his gun to his shoulder 
and fired. One of the birds dropped into the tall 
grass. It made good eating that evening by our 
first campfire on the prairie. Our first night in 
Kansas and what followed we will remember as 
long as we live. 

‘‘ Let’s camp under this big cottonwood, boys,” I 
said. It’s a dandy place. It will be shady during 
the day and we can stay here for a couple of days 
and fish and hunt.” 

“Don’t you know better than that by this time, 
Jo,” said Tom. 

“ Of course, he don’t,” chimed in Jim, “ he don’t 
never think.” 

“ Well what’s the matter with that place, any- 
way, you wise guys,” I asked. 

“ Humph, don’t you see, that the creek has been 
all over here, onc’t. What’s to hinder it from rising 
again and drowning us out. It looks as black as 


14 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


thunder up north now/’ retorted Tom. So that 
was settled by the majority. Our tent was pitched 
on a rather narrow shelf below the higher bank 
of the old time river. It was now time to feed the 
horses. 

** How much grain do you mix with the bran ? ” 
I asked, holding a nose bag in either hand. This 
was just to be mean for I knew it would stir up 
my dear brothers. 

“ What d’ y’e think of that,” exclaimed Jim, 
looking at Tom, ‘‘ he ain’t learned yet.” 

One quart of grain to two of bran, you bloom- 
in’ Injun,” replied Tom grimly. 

“That’s so, I forgot,” I said mildly, “I hope 
you will mix those biscuits as well as I do this 
feed.” 

Then I carried the well filled bags to the whin- 
nying horses and they plunged their noses deep 
into the grain before I could fit the strap over 
their ears. 


CHAPTER II 


THE ALARM 

The two boys slept in the tent and I in the wagon. 
I had our faithful watchdog for company. He had 
thick black hair with a white ‘‘ shirt front on his 
chest and he was a bully fighter. 

I felt very comfortable as I lay back in the 
wagon under the blankets with the dog at my feet 
and my rifle near my side. I was glad to be off the 
ground, so there could be no rattlesnakes crawling 
over me. 

About midnight a heavy storm come on and I 
could hear the rain pattering in large drops on the 
canvas roof of the wagon, and flashes of lightning 
showed the wet stretch of rainy plains. 

Suddenly the dog, “ Ben,’’ jumped to the front 
of the wagon barking furiously. Hastily grabbing 
my rifle, I looked out into the darkness but could 
see nothing, but the dog evidently did, for every 
hair on his back was bristling. Then a flash of 
lightning showed me three men on horseback, with 
broad sombreros and armed with rifles, making off 
with our horses. Instantly I brought my rifle to 
IS 


i6 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


my shoulder and fired at the men as they started off 
with their booty. I ducked down just in time, as 
three spurts of fire jumped out, then the bullets 
tore through the canvas over my head. 

Jim and Tom came running out from the tent 
hurriedly armed. 

‘‘ What’s the matter,” yelled Tom. 

‘‘ Some horse thieves have stolen our horses,” I 
cried, and we started in chase. The men were 
somewhat delayed by the antics of our frightened 
horses. A flash of lightning revealed the desper- 
adoes, crossing the stream, about a quarter of a 
mile above us. 

“ Come on, boys,” said Jim, '' they are coming 
down the south bank of the creek.” 

I bet that they are some of Jesse James’ gang 
from Missouri,” said Tom, ‘‘ and they have been on 
our trail.” 

We now plunged into the stream, which was up 
to our waists, holding our rifles well above our 
heads, we reached the opposite bank. Finding our 
way through the thin woods on the other side, we 
came to a deep gully, which cut down towards the 
creek. 

‘‘ They will have to cross this higher up,” I said, 
and perhaps we can head them off.” 

We had gone perhaps two hundred yards when 
we heard the sound of horses’ hoofs and the heavy 


THE ALARM 


17 


muffled voices of the men talking as they came in 
our direction. 

'' Are you all ready,” whispered Tom. “ Yes,” 
I said, as I threw the lever of my rifle down, 
bringing it up. again with a cartridge in the barrel. 
We had not long to wait. We could just see the 
dark forms of three men on horseback as they 
started to cross the gully about a hundred and fifty 
feet above where we laid in ambuscade. 

Now let them have it,” whispered Tom, and 
three rifle shots rang out together. There was a 
terrific yell as they fired in return and I felt a 
burning sensation in my left shoulder. We heard 
a thud as of a heavy body falling then the sound of 
galloping hoofs. 

“ I believe that weVe got one of them” said Jim. 

We hurried up the ravine and saw a black body 
in front of us and an object trying to get loose. 

Quick, boys,” yelled Jim, and he ran ahead of 
us and threw himself on the struggling form. 

Help, I can’t hold him,” and we ran to his 
assistance, just in time. The desperado had 
struggled to his feet with Jim clinging to his back 
like a wildcat. Tom made a flying tackle about 
the fellow’s knees and I sat on his head. 

''Get his gun, Jo,” Jim yelled to me. This I 
did and we had the Missourian covered and with- 
out a weapon. Suddenly his horse, which we had 


i8 THE FRONTIER BOYS 

supposed was shot, got to his feet and galloped oif. 
It seemed that he had stepped in a prairie dog hole, 
fallen, and just to be contrary had laid still like the 
broncho he was. 

Well, sonny, what are you going to do with 
me,” asked our captive of Jim, whom he appeared 
to regard as the captain. 

'' You march to the tent and then we will see,” 
replied Jim. 

You haven’t got a chaw of tobacco, any of you 
boys? I reckon, I spilled mine when my horse 
fell.” 

“ No, we don’t chew,” replied Tom. 

That’s too bad,” he returned, “ Whar are you 
fellars from anyhow ? ” 

Never mind about that,” replied Jim, we 
want our bosses back.” 

Did you lose some? Waal thet’s bad too. 
What did they look like, may be I could find them 
for you uns.” 

“ No, you don’t,” retorted Tom, “ you stay with 
us until we get them back, you fellows stole them.” 

“ It does look sort of suspicious, but it was so 
dark we couldn’t tell what color they was. We 
missed some horses ourselves back in Missouri and 
I reckon you boys took them.” 

Oh, ho, that’s your game is it,” replied Tom. 
“ Maybe you will change your tune.” 


THE ALARM 


19 


By this time we had arrived at the camp and by 
the light of the lantern we had a good look at our 
prisoner. He did not look like the desperadoes we 
had read about. He was not over twenty, and more 
like a big heavy-limbed farmer boy, with very black 
hair heavily plastered down by the soaking rain. 
He wore blue overalls, a cheap black shirt and a 
gray felt hat. 

“ ril just make myself comfortable, boys,^' he 
said, seating himself on the grub box, “ and please 
keep that purp of yours from hurting himself chew- 
ing on my boot.’’ 

Lay down, Ben,” commanded Jim, to the dog, 
who was bristling and growling around the 
stranger. 

‘‘ Why, sonny,” he said, looking at me, “ some- 
thing has torn your coat.” 

“ Gee, Jo, it looks as if a bullet had done that,” 
said Tom. 

“ That’s what it is,” said Jim, making a hasty 
examination, and the skin on my shoulder had a 
red streak. 

“ I remember when those fellows fired, something 
seemed to burn my shoulder and I guess it was 
a bullet.” 

Lucky it didn’t go any lower or it would have 
broken your shoulder,” remarked Tom. 

That must have been Cal did that. He’s awful 


20 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


careless with weapons, especially at night,” drawled 
the Missourian. 

“ I guess you belong to Jesse James' gang,” I 
said, ‘^they are apt to be careless with weapons.” 
A black look came into his eyes, that made him 
ugly enough. 

‘‘ Ugh ! ” he growled, you boys have been read- 
ing dime novels, I reckon, tenderfeet from the 
east, that’s what you are.” 

“ Here, don’t touch that knife,” said the ever 
watchful Jim, grabbing a knife, at the same mo- 
ment, from under the man’s carefully creeping 
hand, ‘‘ we ain’t such tenderfeet as you might 
think.” 

“ I was just going to clean my nails out of re- 
spect to the company. You mustn’t be narvous, 
boys, because of the past excitement.” 

“We ain’t narvous,” I said, adopting part of 
his dialect, “ but we are kinder sleepy being kept up 
so late. Why didn’t you fellows call earlier and 
we could have given you a warmer welcome.” 

“ It was warm enough, sonny,” grinned our pris- 
oner, “ but growing boys need sleep so you just 
turn in and I will look out for the camp and sees 
that no one steals the dog.” 

“ Mighty thoughtful of you,” replied Jim, “ but 
somebody might come along and steal you and we 
can’t spare you just yet. 


THE ALARM 


21 


That’s so/’ I put in, “ it would be mighty lone- 
some without you now the horses are gone.” 

“ I never thought I would make such good 
friends so soon, and you tenderfeet too. It ain’t 
my nature to make friends with strangers sudden 
as it were.” 

“ No, I bet it ain’t,” exclaimed Tom, who had 
been keeping very quiet, but you make friends 
with their horses, pretty quick. But it’s dangerous 
business, showing such a sudden fondness for ani- 
mals that don’t belong to you.” 

“ That just shows,” said the Missourian sorrow- 
fully, how you are misunderstood when you are 
found in bad company. Now if anybody should 
come along and see me in such desperate company 
my reputation would be gone.” 

Tom was seated by our camp table with his rifle 
laid across his knees, convenient to his hand. Tom 
was the thinker of the crowd, while Jim and I were 
for action. It turned out that he had not been 
thinking in vain as he addressed the Missourian. 
It might have been a court martial as far as Tom’s 
demeanor was concerned. He was a veritable 
judge. 


CHAPTER III 


THE START 

“You might just as well stop this kidding and 
get down to business. We have the drop on you 
and you know it. Now we have got to have our 
horses back and soon too.^’ Thus spoke Tom. 

“Just so” replied the prisoner, sitting up on 
the box, with his powerful arms resting on his 
knees and looking narrowly at Tom, “ what’s your 
proposition ? ” 

“ It’s plain and straight,” he replied, “ you know 
that you and your gang won’t stand any chance in 
Kansas. If there isn’t a tree handy, they will string 
you to a telegraph pole.” 

“ You’ve got a fool notion that I belong to the 
Jesse James gang. Maybe we belong around here,” 
growled the prisoner. 

“ No, you don’t,” rejoined Tom decisively, “ trust 
me to know a Missourian when I see one. I don’t 
care whether you belong to Jesse James’ gang or to 
the Younger Brothers or a crowd of your own, 
what I want you to tell us is where can we find 


22 


THE START 


23 


those horses or I will have a posse of citizens here 
before noon who will attend to your case.” 

The Missourian glowered at the ground for a 
full minute, turning the matter over in his mind. 
What decided him was probably a desire to get even 
with the gang who had deserted him for their own 
reasons. 

“ Waal,” he said, if I tell you-uns, will you 
promise to turn me free ? ” 

“ Yes we will promise that,” replied Tom, “ and 
we will keep our word.” 

“ I believe yer,” he said, “ Now I will tell ye 
boys where you can find them horses. They are at 
a ranch fifteen miles southeast of here.” 

“ How in the dickens are we ever going to find 
it,” I inquired. 

“ Just hold on young fellar and Til tell yer. 
You follow down the creek for five miles, to where 
there is an island, then turn straight south down the 
valley, until you come to the second ranch, with 
an adobe barn. You’ll find your horses thar in the 
corral. Then it’s up to you to get them. I don’t 
think Cal will miss a second time, sonny,” he said, 
looking at me. 

“ Cal had better look out or we will corral him, 
the same as we did you,” I said with the confidence 
of youth. 

“I’d a whole lot rather corral a laughing hyena 


24 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


than Cal Jenkins. He ain’t good natured like I 
am,” he replied. 

Well, boys, who is to go,” queried Tom, some- 
one will have to stay with our friend here.” 

“ Never mind about me, I won’t get lonesome, 
boys, if you all go. Sometimes I reckon even two 
is a crowd.” 

'' We will draw lots,” said Tom, cutting a bit of 
paper into three different lengths, with his trusty 
bowie knife. 

I’ll hold ’em,” said the Missourian. 

*'The short one stays,” quoth Tom. I solemnly 
drew the first paper, then Tom, and Jim took what 
was left. As I held mine up, it was the longest 
and Jim’s next, so Tom was elected to do guard 
duty. 

It was now getting light and we had to make our 
arrangements. The storm had cleared, leaving a 
few rolled up clouds on the western horizon. We 
held a short council of war in front of our tent, 
keeping an eye on our prisoner, who lay lazily back 
on the grub box. 

“ I don’t think that we had better start until 
about noon,” I said, “ Tom will have to have some 
sleep because we can’t tell when we will get back 
and there is no use for us to get to the ranch until 
after dark.” 

“ That’s so,” acquiesced Jim, you have more 


THE START 


25 


sense than I thought for, Jo, and we can make that 
fifteen miles easy this afternoon/’ That was true 
for we were seasoned walkers and in fine condition 
for any adventure. So Tom put in five hours 
sleeping in the wagon and from the way he snored, 
we judged that he was enjoying it. We kept our 
friend company in the tent and busied ourselves 
cleaning up our rifles and preparing for the trip. 

It’s a fact, boys,” said the Missourian, “ that 
I don’t belong to the James gang, but I have seen 
Jesse, though I didn’t know it at the time.” 

“ What did he look like,” questioned Jim. 

Waal, how do you suppose he would look? ” he 
drawled. 

“ All the pictures I ever saw of him, he was about 
six feet tall, with square shoulders, raven black 
hair and long moustaches, red cheeks, a bowie knife 
stuck in his boot; two six shooters, one at either 
hip.” 

“ Missouri ” laughed. 

It was this way,” he said, “ I was eating supper 
in the dining room of the depot at Independence, 
Mo. The fellow who waited on the table where I 
sat was a sawed-off little runt, with very light hair 
and a short, silky, yellow beard. He had a very 
soft voice like a woman’s. I thought to myself, 
‘ Here is a Miss Nancy,’ and I gave him some guff 
about the eggs. 


2(5 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ ‘ I ’low, stranger, you v/ill eat them eggs,’ and 
he gave me a look out of a gray eye that went 
through a fellow’s bone. I never saw such an eye 
in a man. It meant business sure. 

“ I ate the eggs and never twittered. Afterwards 
I found out that that same fellow was Jesse James. 
The police were looking everywhere for him and 
he was right under their nose, where they never 
thought of looking. But he didn’t look any more 
dangerous than sonny sitting there, just as inno- 
cent.” 

“ I ain’t innocent,” I said, angry at this attack 
upon my character. 

“'Waal you look it,” continued the Missourian, 
“though appearances are sartainly deceivin’ some- 
times.” 

When twelve o’clock arrived we woke Tom and 
set off on our dangerous mission. 

“If you see Cal or any of the boys, close enough 
to get acquainted,” said our prisoner, “ you be sure 
and ask them for a chaw of tobacco, because I’m 
likely to fade away if I don’t have some soon. 
Tell ’em not to forget their old pal in his terrible 
captivity.” 

We promised to do our best for him. When we 
left camp we were as well prepared for any emer- 
gency as we could be. We wore gray pants, slouch 


THE START 


27 


hats and shirts of the same color, so that we would 
not be easily observable. We also had plenty of 
ammunition for our rifles in the belts around our 
waists. Jim carried a large canteen for after we 
left the river, it was hard telling where we would 
find water in that dry country. We were also well 
supplied with food, which we carried in sacks slung 
over our shoulders. It was pleasant walking the 
first part of the way, with plenty of shade to rest 
under when we felt like it, but we did not stop often 
for our muscles were hard as nails and nothing 
seemed to tire us. 

One would naturally have thought that we two 
boys would have been nervous to say the least, go- 
ing to meet those desperadoes on their own ground, 
but we had no fear and rather looked forward to 
the adventure. In the first place we had to have 
those horses and now we knew why these frontiers- 
men hung horse thieves without a trial. We could 
sympathize with their feelings. We determined to 
give those desperadoes something to remember us 
by. 

“ I believe this is the island ‘ Missouri * told us 
about,” said Jim. 

“ What time is it,” I asked ; Jim pulled out his 
heavy silver watch. 

“ Quarter of two.” 


28 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ Then this is the place,” I said, we would do 
five miles in about that time and we have taken 
things easy.” 

“ There’s no hurry. Let’s wade over to the 
island and see what’s on it. Perhaps we might find 
something,” said Jim. 

“ No,” I said, we have to reach this ranch before 
dark, and we ought not to take a chance, because 
we might lose the way.” So it was decided and 
we faced about directly south down a broad shal- 
low valley. 

This is certainly nice walking,” said Jim, as 
we swung along over the curly buffalo grass, that 
gave us a springy footing. 

“Look out!” cried Jim, jumping forward and 
about three feet in the air. I stopped just in time. 
There directly in front of me was a rattler coiled 
and ready to strike. Then he launched himself 
at me his full length, with his fanged mouth open. 
Jim whaled a big stone at him, striking him squarely 
back of his ugly head and then we jumped on him 
with both feet. 

“ Cut off his rattles, Jim,” I said, because I was 
finicky about touching the snake myself, but Jim 
didn’t mind. 

“ He was six years and a half old,” said Jim, 
counting his rattles, one for each year and a button 
at the end. 


THE START 


29 


There is the first ranch/’ said Jim, after we 
had been walking an hour. 

We had better keep out of sight of it,” I said. 

Maybe they are friends of Cal Jenkins and his 
gang.” So we made a detour to the west and then 
took up our trail again. Suddenly Jim pulled me 
down into the tall grass. 

Be careful,” said Jim, I believe that there is 
a lookout over on that ridge.” 

Slowly I raised my head and looked through a 
screen of young sunflowers. 

It’s a man on horseback,” I said, and he is rid- 
ing this way. I wonder if he saw us ? ” Then we 
laid close to the warm earth, our rifles within our 
grasp, ready for action and the sheltering grass 
was around us. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE RECONNOISANCE 

In a short time we heard the sound of horses' 
hoofs and the creak of leather as the rider changed 
his position in the saddle. Evidently he was on 
the lookout for something. After a minute, I 
slowly raised my head and saw a short, heavy set 
man on a buckskin broncho and a rifle swung in his 
powerful left hand, as light as a straw and an ugly 
mongrel dog with gray wiry hair followed close be- 
hind the horse’s heels. 

Suddenly the man turned in his saddle and looked 
directly at the spot where we were hiding, and I 
dropped as if I had been shot and hugged close to 
the earth. You fool,” whispered Jim, “can’t 
you keep still ? ” 

Go on Bucks,” cried the man in a hoarse voice, 
“ sic ’em, sic ’em, root ’em out,” and the dog began 
to run around in widening circles, with his nose 
close to the ground. Luckily for us, he did not 
strike our trail. In a short time the man called his 
dog to heel and rode slowly down the valley. With 
the keen instinct of the frontiersman, he knew that 
30 


THE RECONNOISANCE 


31 


there was some enemy in the vicinity. We gave 
him plenty of time and at last he and his dog dis- 
appeared over a low ridge in the distance. 

“ By Jove, that was a close call,’' said Jim, as we 
took up the trail again, it’s a wonder you did not 
give us away peeking your pesky head.” 

“ A miss is as good as a mile,” I replied. “ 1 
guess we will have to leg it now. It must be after 
four.” I cast a calculating eye at the sun which 
was edging down toward the low western horizon. 
Jim consulted his large silver chronometer. 

“ It’s twenty minutes after four,” he said, we 
will have plenty of time to sight that ranch before 
it gets dark.” 

“ Say Jim, what would you have done if a rattle- 
snake had crawled towards you in the grass when 
that man was coming ? ” 

I’d let him crawl,” replied Jim, “ if you keep 
still as a frozen Injun they won’t bite you. I read 
once about a man who was sleeping out on the 
plains and he felt something on his chest and he 
didn’t move, just opened one eye and then he saw 
a big rattler coiled up there peeking at him and 
his head going back and forth. The man just kept 
quiet, didn’t even breathe until the snake stretched 
out for a siesta and then he gave a yell and threw 
that snake up so high that when it came down it 
broke its neck.” 


32 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ Gee ! ’’ I said, '' but that was a fright. Now 
Jim, what are we going to do when we get to the 
ranch ? ” 

“ Knock at the door of course, and say, ‘ Good 
evening, Mr. Jenkins, if you are through with our 
horses, we should like to borrow them.' ” 

‘‘ Quit your kidding," I said, “ and tell me 
what your scheme is." 

‘‘You wait until we get there and then I will 
show you," said Jim, with more confidence than he 
doubtless felt. 

“ I bet when we get to that ridge, we will see 
the ranch," I said, “ it won’t take us more than a 
quarter of an hour to reach it." 

“ Shucks," replied Jim, disgusted, “ that ridge is 
three miles off," and so it proved. Jim was a 
much better plainsman than I was. It was after 
five o’clock when we arrived at the crest of the 
ridge and looked over. 

“There’s the place, cried Jim, who was slightly 
ahead of me. He was on his hands and knees, 
looking cautiously over and I crawled up carefully 
behind him. 

“ My it’s a squatty looking place, it makes me 
shiver to look at it," and there was something 
sinister about the ranch. An atmosphere of secre- 
tiveness and outlawry. 

“ I don’t see why you should shiver," replied 


THE RECONNOISANCE 


33 


Jim, who was perfectly matter-of-fact, “ it’s cer- 
tainly warm enough and I’m sweating consider- 
able.” 

As for the ranch, it was a collection of low build- 
ings set in the middle of the valley. A long adobe 
barn, with a corral around it in which were several 
horses loose. 

Hang the luck,” exclaimed Jim. I don’t see 
a sign of our horses.” 

Maybe they are in the stable,” I suggested. 

Well, we will have to wait until dusk before 
we can find out. I am going to get a good idea of 
how the land lies while it is light.” So he lay with 
his head propped on his hands reconnoitering 
through the tall grass. 

There’s a windmill back of the barn and a 
watering trough.” 

‘‘And two hay stacks close to the end of the 
barn,” I said, “ that will be a good place to hide if 
the men should come out and look for us. Say 
Jim, what is that funny looking roof in the yard 
close to the ground?” Jim laughed. 

“ You are a sure enough tenderfoot. Why that’s 
a dugout with a sod roof. Just like a cellar with a 
roof. Lots of people in Kansas live in dugouts.” 

“ Funny place to live in,” I said. 

“ They are all right in this country,” replied Jim, 
“ cool and dry in summer, warm and dry in winter. 


34 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


the wind can’t blow them down and if a prairie fire 
comes along it will burn right over a dugout with- 
out hurting it.” 

“ I guess that I would just as soon live in the dug- 
out as in that shanty,” I said, pointing to the other 
building in the yard. It evidently had not more 
than two rooms and there was an outside chimney 
built of mud and sticks against one end of the 
shanty. It was unpainted and had weathered a 
dingy brown. 

“ I don’t see anybody stirring, perhaps this would 
be our chance to get our horses,” said Jim. 

“ I wouldn’t risk it,” I said, “ that man we saw 
maybe is in the neighborhood. We had better wait 
till it gets dark.” 

Jim’s plan, though it seemed daring, may have 
been the best after all. 

“ I shouldn’t wonder if those fellows had gone 
off on another raid,” I said, but they have prob- 
ably left someone on guard.” 

“ Well, we have an hour before sunset to rest in, 
so let’s take it easy,” said Jim, so we slid down 
behind the ridge and loosening our belts stretched 
ourselves out comfortably on the warm grass and 
ate our beef and bread with a huge appetite and 
did not mind even if the water from the canteen 
tasted rather warm. 

“ My, this is comfort,” said Jim, ‘‘ beats lying 


THE RECONNOISANCE 


35 


on the old lounge in the library at home and read- 
ing a yarn about the wild west. We ain't reading 
it now, we are seeing it for sure." 

“Yes,” I said sleepily, “it suits me all right.” 
In another minute I was sound asleep and I was 
home again trying to tell the folks all about the ad- 
ventures of our trip. Trying to answer twenty, 
questions at once. “ Yes and what do you think 
happened when I was sleeping out on the plains 
one night? Why a rattlesnake coiled upon my 
chest and was just about to strike me in the face, 
when all of a sudden I threw him high in the 
air.” 

“ Hey, what’s . the matter ? ” I exclaimed fight- 
ing desperately, with someone who was trying to 
choke me. 

“ Quit your yelling Jo,” warned Jim, who had his 
hand over my mouth, “ what’s the matter with you 
anyway ? ” 

“ I was dreaming about rattlesnakes,” I said. 

“ Well it certainly sounded like it,” commented 
Jim. 

“What’s that?” he asked suddenly. 

“ I don’t hear anything, but maybe you do. 
Your ears are sharper than mine. Just like a 
burro’s. Why that’s somebody talking,” I said 
cautiously. We climbed to the top of the ridge and 
looked over. 


36 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ Why it^s Cal Jenkins and his side partner 
driving some more stolen horses in/’ said Jim. 

Sure enough, there were the two desperadoes 
coming up from the south with half a dozen horses, 
driven in front of them. Occasionally the wind 
would carry the sound of their voices to us as they 
urged their horses along. We could see them quite 
plainly. 

“ I bet that’s Cal Jenkins,” said Jim, “ the tall 
one riding the little roan. He is a raw-boned old 
villain sure enough. What are you doing Jo,” ex- 
claimed Jim in alarm. Don’t fire, your fool.” 

“ I was just drawing a bead on Mr. Jenkins,” I 
said, looking along the barrel of the rifle until the 
sight on the end of its nose was pointing directly 
at the center of his blue flannel shirt. 

The two men drove the horses into the corral 
and shutting the gate, led their own bronchos into 
the adobe barn. In a short time one of them came 
out leading a bay horse and a black towards the 
watering trough back of the bam. 

“ Look, Jo, there are our two horses,” exclaimed 
Jim, the rascals, it makes my blood hot. I would 
like to take a shot at that fellow right now. Very 
well, Mr. Horsethieves, we will give you a surprise 
to-night,” and if Jim had been giving ‘‘ Regulus 
to the Cathaginians,” he could not have spoken 
with more feeling. 


THE RECONNOISANCE 


37 


The sun had now gone below the horizon and the 
long summer twilight was fading into dusk, when 
we prepared to move on the enemy. We gave our 
belts an extra hitch, saw that our rifles were in 
working order, with one cartridge in the gun and 
fifteen in the magazine, then we pulled our hats 
tight down over our foreheads and slowly and 
cautiously crept down the slope of the ridge to- 
wards the ranch. 


CHAPTER V 


THE FIRST ROUND 

We crossed a little run which was a brook in the 
rainy season and came to a barb wire fence some 
distance back of the barn. Jim got through as 
slick as a whistle, but my flannel shirt got caught 
on some barbs. 

“ Here, Jim,” I said in a muffled voice, come 
and help me let go. This blamed barb wire is 
holding me fast.” 

‘‘ Well, don’t wriggle,” said Jim, and I’ll get 
you loose. I would think that by this time you 
would know how to get through a barb wire fence. 
You will be waking those people if you ain’t careful. 
I never saw such a fellow.” 

No sooner had we started towards the barn than 
Jim’s foot struck an old tin pail that was hidden in 
the grass and fell forward on his right hand, keep- 
ing his rifle from jamming by holding it in his left 
hand. Jim made considerable racket falling and 
the dog ran out from the yard barking ferociously. 
We laid very low, scarcely breathing, and after a 
while the dog quieted down. 

38 


THE FIRST ROUND 


39 


“ Who kicked up the fuss this time ? I asked. 

“ I did,” said Jim, lucky I didn’t hurt myself 
when I fell.” 

Jim could always find something to take credit 
for. As it turned out that was a fortunate stumble 
of Jim’s, as will appear later, but you can never 
guess why. 

“ I am afraid, Jim, that we are going to have 
trouble with that dog. I wish he was out of the 
way, then we could get our horses without any 
trouble. If we only had some strychinine.” 

“ By gum ! ” exclaimed Jim, “ I have an idea. 
Just wait till we get back of the barn and I will 
tell you what we will do.” 

At last without giving any further alarm we got 
safely into the corral back of the barn. ** Now, 
Jo, let me have that piece of candle in your grub 
sack.” 

I fished around until I found it and handed it to 
him. 

** What do you want this for ? ” I said. 

“ You watch me and you will find out,” he re- 
plied. ‘‘Now where is that piece of meat? 
Here it is.” 

Then to my surprise he took the head of the rat- 
tlesnake, which we had killed, out of his pocket. 
I had not said anything about it at the time, for 
Jim was a great fellow to collect curious things and 


40 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


for all I knew he might be sending it back home 
to his best girl. 

Then by the light of the candle, he cut the 
snake’s white fangs open with his pen knife and 
with the point of it took out a bit of whitish poison, 
the most deadly in the world and this he put into 
a piece of meat, first spitting on it for only in 
melted form would it be dangerous. Jim’s in- 
genuity surprised me, but he was always smart in 
some ways. 

Now, Jo, it’s your turn. You were always a 
good thrower. So it’s up to you to get this meat 
under the dog’s nose.” 

All right, give it to me,” I said, I wonder 
where the beast is ? ” 

I saw him lying in front of the door before we 
came down the hill,” said Jim. If you can only 
get him, the rest will be easy.” 

“ I might call ‘ Rover, Rover, good doggie,’ and 
then feed him the meat.” 

‘‘ Don’t get funny, Jo,” said Jim. He’s no 
Rover, but a mongrel wolf dog, that’s what he 
is.” 

“ I am going to feed the dog now, goodbye,” I 
said, and slipped away in the darkness. 

I decided that my best way was between the two 
big hay stacks that extended beyond the end of the 
barn toward the shanty, where the dog was keeping 


THE FIRST ROUND 


41 


guard. I would be in this way protected on both 
sides. 

I carefully crawled between the stacks. There 
was a space of a foot and a half to move in and I 
felt perfectly protected and shut in, when I sud- 
denly stumbled over something like a man’s legs. 

Instantly my hand grasped the knife in my belt. 
It was the only weapon I had because I had left 
the rifle with Jim. But my fright was short lived, 
what I thought was a man were two short, round 
logs, partially covered with hay and a discarded 
pair of overalls lying on them. 

I reached the end of the passage and peering 
carefully out, I saw the dog lying in front of the 
door in the lamplight with his nose between his 
paws. 

It was up to me now to make an accurate toss. 
The distance was not much further than between 
the pitcher’s box and first base and many a runner 
had I put out on a bunt that rolled too far or a line 
hit which I had stopped. 

I poised myself carefully and then with a well- 
timed swing of my arm, I tossed the meat towards 
the dog. It fell a foot before his nose with a 
gentle thud. 

Immediately “ Rover ” sat up with a bustling 
growl. Then he cautiously nosed the meat and 
swallowed it at one gulp. 


42 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


I did not have to wait long for the results, neither 
did the dog. In a minute he was stretched out, 
with his legs quivering and straight, his head 
wrenched way back and his mouth foaming, but 
his teeth were so tightly clinched that he could not 
make a sound that would attract the attention of the 
men who were in the house. They were having a 
fierce time over a card game, judging from the 
oaths and bad language which I could distinctly 
hear from my position. 

In a few minutes all was over and the dog lay 
stretched out just as though he were sleeping. 

This was a good start for our night’s work and 
I went back to where Jim was anxiously waiting 
behind the barn “ Did you get him ? ” he asked. 

“ Sure I did,” I replied, he’s as dead as a door 
nail.” 

** That’s lucky,” said Jim. “ Now for the next 
thing on the programme. ' The horses are in the 
barn, we are sure of that. But I reckon it’s too 
early to get them. Those fellows will be sure to 
hear us if we try to take them out now. Better 
let them get to sleep, then we will chance it. I tell 
you what’s let’s do.” 

“ What ? ” I said, “ take a nap for an hour or 
two.” 

“ No, of course not. You are always wanting 
to sleep. You would never make a soldier.” 


THE FIRST ROUND 


43 


“ I don’t want to be a soldier, it’s too much work 
and too little excitement. What’s your scheme ? ” 

“ I was thinking we might creep around back 
of the shanty and have a look at those men.” 

‘‘ That’s a fool thing to do. Maybe we might get 
in the card game.” 

“If they are playing cards they won’t notice 
us,” said Jim, “ they will be too busy and it’s kind 
of dull squatting here back of the barn for a couple 
of hours.” 

“ All right,” I said, “ if you are looking for 
amusement, I ’m with you.” 

Moving forward, we took my old trail between 
the hay stacks and then made a detour back of the 
shanty, being very careful not to stumble against 
anything which might give the alarm. 

The only thing I ran across was an axe lying on 
the ground. In the back of the shanty was a small 
square window, which had no curtain over it 
Lifting our heads cautiously we looked in, and there 
in the middle of the room, sat four men around a 
rough wooden table playing cards. 

“ That’s Cal Jenkins,” whispered Jim, “ the one 
with the gray hair cut close and a scar down his 
cheek. My, but he is a beaut. I see they keep 
their guns close like they were expecting company 
any time.” 

Just then Jenkins, who was seated facing the 


44 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


window, looked up and I ducked down, like I was 
shot. 

“ My ! did you see that fellow’s eyes ? ” I said to 
Jim in a whisper, though I need not have been so 
careful for the men were talking loud enough to 
drown out any noise we made. “ Why, his eyes 
looked as if they had snakes in ’em.” 

“ That’s just a cast in his eye,” replied Jim, it 
does give him a funny look.” 

“ By Jove, Jim, I believe that fellow with his 
back to us is the one we saw this afternoon. It’s 
just about his size.” 

That’s exactly who it is, Jo. My, I should like 
to surprise those fellows right now.” He made 
a motion to bring' his rifle up. 

It wouldn’t take them long to knock that candle 
out,” I said, ‘‘and they would stand a better show 
in the dark than we would.” 

Just then Cal Jenkins pushed his chair back from 
the table and we got ready to retreat further into 
the night, but instead of going to the door, he went 
to the other side of the room and took down a 
flat looking bottle from a shelf in a corner. 

“ That’s some more whiskey,” said Jim, “ I wish 
they would drink enough to make them sleepy.” 

“ No danger of that,” I said, “ those Missourians 
can stand a lot of drink. What time is it, Jim? ^’ 


THE FIRST ROUND 


45 


Just nine o’clock. We will give them till eleven 
to get asleep.” 

‘‘ Waal boys,” said Jenkins. “ Here’s luck,” 
and the quartette threw the whiskey down at a 
gulp. 

“ We’ll have to be leaving this farm about three 
in the mornin’ boss,” said the man with his back 
toward us, if we are to git them horses over the 
line into Missoury before the sheriff and his gang 
strike our trail.” 

“ Thet’s right, pard,” replied Cal, it’s a good 
haul we’ve made this trip. Those kids’ horses are 
fine and fat and oughter bring $150 apiece.” 

We’ll show you whether we are kids before 
we are through with you to-night,” growled Jim, 
‘‘ Mr. Jenkins ain’t the only persimmon on the 
creek.” 

'' One more deal, pard,” said the other, “ and 
then I’ll go out and see if them horses are all right 
before we turn in.” 

“ Say, Jo,” whispered Jim, “ I must get that dog 
out of the way before he comes out and sees it,” 
and he slipped away in the darkness while I watched 
anxiously through the window. 

Jim had only been gone a minute when JenkinS 
pushed back his chair from the table. 

What’s that noise ? ” he asked. 


46 , 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ Nothin' 'cept the wind, I reckon," replied 
‘‘ pard." 

My heart jumped to my throat and began to 
thump violently as I got my rifle ready. 

“ I tell you I hearn somethin' outside," declared 
Cal, and he rose quickly and with a crouch like a 
panther went to the door, his ugly looking pistol 
ready for business. 

'' Here, you, Tige, come here or I’ll break your 
blasted hide," and he whistled long and low and 
turning suddenly he looked directly toward the win- 
dow at which I stood. He then stepped out 
into the darkness. 


CHAPTER VI 


TOM AND THE MISSOURIAN 

Tom and the Missourian were having a compar- 
atively peaceful time at the camp during the hours 
following the departure of the brothers. 

IPs too hot in this tent, Missouri,” said Tom, 

let’s go out in the shade of the old apple tree for 
awhile.” 

'' I’m willin’ enough,” assented ''Missouri,” 
" these pesky flies are getting too familiar. One 
thing I’m grateful for and that is I’m not bald- 
headed.” 

" Here’s a good big cottonwood,” said Tom, 
" let’s make ourselves comfortable,” and they threw 
themselves down with a log for a pillow. 

" I hope you won’t get frisky and try to run off, 
Missouri,” said Tom. 

" You needn’t worry,” said Missouri, " where 
would I run to ? I’m a poor orphan. My partner’s 
gone back on me and I haven’t any friends in this 
neck of the woods.” 

" How did you happen to get in this business ? ” 
asked Tom. 


47 


48 the frontier BOYS 

Oh, nateral enough. You see my pop was 
killed by the guerrilos during the wah and ma was 
left with a brood of kids on a farm where every- 
thing was took by one side, or anuther during the 
wah. I was the oldest and I had to get out and 
hustle for myself, but times was hard, then come 
the grasshopper year.” 

Tve heard of that,” said Tom, it must have 
been fierce.” 

It was bad,” he assented. “ I remember how 
them grasshoppers come all of a sudden. You 
might think I was lying, but it’s true as the gospel. 
I was workin’ in a cornfield when I noticed a shad- 
der come ever the sun and I was surprised because 
there wasn’t a cloud anywhere. And what do you 
think it was ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” Tom replied. 

“ Why it was a cloud of grasshoppers coming 
from Kansas, and they settled on everything and 
ate the country as clean as a whistle. Why they 
even ate the hoe handles.” 

Oh, get out,” laughed Tom, ‘‘ now you are 
talking nonsense. You must size me up for a 
tenderfoot.” 

‘‘ I reckon that was putting it a little strong,” 
admitted “ Missouri,” but them hoppers would 
bite the handles so as to make them kind of rough. 
The chickens ate so many of them that it made the 


TOM AND THE MISSOURIAN 49 

eggs strong. And IVe seen a big board fence so 
covered with ’em that you couldn’t see the boards 
at all, just them things a moving. They used to 
stop the trains, too.” 

‘‘ How was that,” inquired Tom, incredulously. 

Why, it was this way. During the day the rails 
would get hot and towards evening the hoppers 
would settle on them. Just cover them as thick as 
’lasses. Then a train would come rolling along and 
crush about a million of them and the rails would 
get as slippery as though they were soaped and 
the wheels would just spin around.” 

Sure if that isn’t a whopper it was pretty hard 
on the hoppers,” grunted Tom. 

Well, it was one bad luck after another, and I 
got plumb discouraged. So I got into Cal Jenkins’ 
gang. And here I am.” 

I suppose you would quit it, if you had a 
chance,” said Tom. 

“You bet I would. I’m through with Cal and 
his crowd. If I had been of their stripe through 
and through they would never have run off and left 
me. 

“ What are you going to do now ? ” 

“ I’ll get out of Kansas the first thing. It isn’t 
healthy for me ’round here. Too much maleria,” 
and he grinned at Tom. “I’ll make for the line 
and get into ole Missoury where I’ve got some 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


SO 

friends and then maybe I’ll go down into Kentucky 
where my ma’s folks have got some kin.” 

“ Better come along with us and try your luck 
in Colorado,” said Tom. It wouldn’t hurt us 
to have a husky like you when we strike the Indian 
country.” 

Thank you for the invite, sonny, but I’ve got a 
little business to settle on my own account before 
I do any traveling. But you may see me out that 
way after awhile.” 

** I hope we do,^’ said Tom cordially. 

** I feel kind of slumbrous,” said “ Missouri,” 
“ and I reckon I’ll take a nap.” 

** Well, don’t mind if I take a notion to stroll 
off while you are asleep,” said Tom. 

** I won’t be frightened if I wake up and find 
myself alone. Make yourself easy. I’ll stay by 
the camp until the boys come home from their trip. 
I want to hear about my old friends and if they 
get too promiscuous around here, I kin help you 
out. I hope the boys won’t fergit about that chaw 
of tobacco.” 

And pulling his hat down over his eyes he was 
soon fast asleep. 

Tom decided to take his shot gun and go up the 
creek in search of a little relaxation and relief. 
He saw a flock of ducks after he had gone a short 
distance and they finally circled and dropped into 


TOM AND THE MISSOURIAN 51 

the stream about a half mile further up. When 
he got near the place where he saw them light, he 
went carefully on his hands and knees and look- 
ing over a screen of grass and weeds he saw eight 
big Mallards swimming in a pool having a good 
time and entirely unsuspecting. He was within 
easy range and taking aim he fired into the group. 
Two lay still with their heads in the water but the 
rest rose, and taking hasty aim he fired the second 
barrel. But with no result except to make the 
ducks fly faster. Something made him turn and 
through the long grass on the bank he was con- 
scious of an object moving. At first he thought it 
was an Indian creeping towards him. Then he 
saw the object had a long yellow body. For a 
second he could not move, though he recognized his 
deadly danger. Then before the prairie panther 
could spring, Tom dodged behind a tree and made 
for a tall cottonwood and jumping he caught a 
lower limb and swung himself up just as the 
panther sprang, barely missing him. He had left 
his gun behind and was securely treed while the 
beast lay crouching and waiting for him to move. 
Tom climbed up as high as he could and then be- 
gan to yell. 

Hello ! ‘ Missouri ! ’ help ! ’’ finally a faint echo 
came to his ears and in a few minutes he heard 
heavy footfalls coming on the run, and ‘‘ Missouri ” 


52 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


burst into view coming through the undergrowth. 
The panther likewise heard and made off through 
the grass, bounding like a big cat and soon dis- 
appeared. 

The varmint liked to got you, didn’t he, 
sonny ? ” 

‘‘ He certainly did,” said Tom, ‘‘ I would have 
stayed here all night if it hadn’t been for you.” 

Well, we will take those two ducks and get 
supper,” said “ Missouri ; ” we can’t have any 
panther steak, but the ducks won’t be so tough.” 

I hope the boys won’t get treed the way I 
did,” said Tom, as they made their way back to 
camp. 


CHAPTER VII 

WE MEET OBSTACLES 

As soon as Cal Jenkins stepped out of the house 
I took refuge behind a bush growing against the 
shanty. Then I heard his heavy, but stealthy foot- 
steps coming around the corner of the house. I 
could almost see his eyes with their wicked glare, 
looking right at me and then to my intense relief, 
he went back into the house. 

“ What’s happened to that dog ? I heard him 
say, I don’t like this.” 

Shucks, he’s just snoopin’ around for grub,” 
Pard said, “ I’ll find him when I go ter the barn. 
Set down and we’ll finish this deal.” Grumbling 
to himself, Jenkins took up his greasy pack of cards 
and the game went on. 

But where was Jim? I waited impatiently, then 
I felt a hand on my shoulder and in spite of myself 
I jumped. 

“ What’s the matter, it’s only me,” said Jim’s 
voice. 

That old villain has been out here,” I replied, 
“ I don’t like his company. Did you get the dog ? ” 
53 


54 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ Sure ; I had to carry him and he was mighty 
heavy and stiff as a board. I didn’t dare drag him 
because it would have made a trail and they would 
have heard me.” 

“ What did you do with him ? ” 

I put him in a kind of ditch about two hundred 
feet from the house, where they won’t be likely to 
find him.” 

Well, I have seen all of this interesting game 
I want. Let’s move,” I said. 

All right,” said Jim, and we slipped away in the 
darkness and took up our position behind the barn, 
where we were before, waiting until our friends 
had retired to their downy blankets. 

“By gum! Jim,” I exclaimed, as we settled into 
our places, “ we plumb forgot to get that chaw 
of tobacco for ' Missouri.’ He’ll be so disappointed 
that he’ll want to shoot.” 

“ You had better go and ask Cal for a plug,” said 
Jim. 

“ We will have a couple of plugs when we leave 
this ranch, I bet, and we won’t ask Jenkins either. 
I wish old Pard would come and put his horses to 
bed.” 

“ Listen,” continued Jim, “ isn’t that someone 
coming now ? ” 

We crept to the corner of the barn and saw a man 


WE MEET OBSTACLES 


55 


coming with a lantern ; the shadow of his legs 
striding immensely where the light of the lantern 
cut the darkness. 

“ That’s him/’ whispered Jim, wouldn’t I like 
to smash his lantern with a rock. It would cer- 
tainly be a surprise to the old gent.” 

“ There arn’t any rocks in Kansas,” I said, “ we 
ought to have brought some with us from York 
state.” 

We heard him yanking the gate open and tak- 
ing an inventory of the horses in the corral. 

“ Thar’s the two blacks, they’ll make a fine team 
for Squar Riggs, back in Missoury. I reckon he’d 
give three hundred for them. That sorrel with the 
white face would suit ole Doc Jones. There’s pow- 
der in him, and the fat bay would please the parson, 
it’s kind of slow and gentle.” Then he came to the 
barn and looked through the window without go- 
ing in. 

“ Them’s the horses,” we heard him say. I’d 
like to keep ’em myself, but the Boss got ’em 
branded.” 

‘‘To prevent any trouble between you and the 
Boss, old squesicks, we’ll take care of them 
‘ bosses,’ ” remarked Jim, as the old fellow started 
back to the house. Jim looked at his watch and it 
was half past ten. 


56 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


'' We’ll give them a half hour to settle down and 
get to snoring,” Jim said, “ and then we will get 
busy.” 

“ Well,” I said, a little later, I guess it’s time to 
move.” 

Yes, time’s up,” exclaimed Jim, getting to his 
feet. We went through the gate into the corral. 

“ Don’t leave that gate open at all,” cautioned 
Jim, because if any of those fellows should come out 
and find it wasn’t shut, they would be suspicious.” 

I went back a few steps and carefully closed 
the gate. 

The horses in the corral pricked up their ears, 
when they saw two strangers and followed us 
slowly with their heads. We went directly to the 
door of the barn. I expected to find it unfastened. 

“ Gee ! ” exclaimed Jim, “ but they have got this 
locked for fair,” he pulled, but the door would not 
give. 

I examined it and found a heavy padlock hold- 
ing it. We worked and tugged but could not budge 
it. We dared not make any noise for the shanty 
was only a few steps away. 

What are we to do now ? ” I asked, terribly 
disappointed to meet a fatal obstacle, when success 
was just in our hands, 

I don’t know, let me think,” said Jim, and he 
stood there, I suppose, for five minutes, but it 


WE MEET OBSTACLES 


57 


seemed an hour to me. I kept watching the house, 
it was dark and ominously quiet. Then I felt some- 
thing touch me in the middle of the back and I 
knew it was the muzzle of a gun. No it was the 
muzzle of the “ parson’s ” old bay horse. I was 
scared cold. 

“ Haven’t you any sugar for him ? ” laughed 
Jim, then he resumed his thinking. I knew Jim 
was resourceful, but I could see no way but to 
start for camp without the horses. Then Jim woke 
up. 

‘‘ Come along, Jo,” he said, “ I have a scheme,’^ 
and he almost dragged me out of the corral. When 
we arrived back of the barn, he said : 

Hurry up, Jo, help me to find that old pail 
we struck after we got through the barb wire 
fence.” 

“ What for ? ” I asked, hadn’t you better get the 
horses out before you water them ? ” 

Never mind, you do as I say,” and we went 
through the long grass in search of the pail. When 
we were about to give it up my foot struck it. 

Now I will show you,” remarked Jim, and he 
went to the water trough and filled the pail and 
threw it against a selected place at the back of the 
barn, then he went for some more water. 

“ I see you are going to make the ’dobe soft and 
break a place for the horses to get out. You are 


58 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


all right, Jim,’’ I exclaimed in unusual admiration, 
for Jim and I being brothers, we never compli- 
mented each other. 

‘‘ I know what I can do. I’ll find that axe and 
we’ll break that wall pretty quick,” and I went 
around in the yard and found the axe without much 
trouble. 

I could hear the heavy snoring of the men in the 
cabin and they little dreamed what was going on 
under their very noses. When I got back to the 
barn Jim had quite a place softened and I began my 
attack. In about fifteen minutes I had a hole cut 
through about two by three feet. 

“ Good work, Jo,” said Jim. ‘‘Now I tell you 
what you can do. You crawl inside and get the 
horses all ready. Take their best saddles. Lucky 
that Bill and Carl are broke to ride. Be careful 
they don’t whinny when they see you first.” 

“ All right,” I replied, “ give me the candle and 
the matches.” 

“ I’ll finish this job in a half hour,” said Jim. 

“ I can give the horses a feed and get them 
already by that time,” I said. “ Lucky the wind 
is blowing so hard. They won’t be so apt to hear 
us.” 

Indeed it was blowing a hurricane, and it was 
perfectly clear with the stars like bright sparks 
driven before the wind. The windmill was whirring 


WE MEET OBSTACLES 


59 


like mad above our heads in the darkness with a 
constant “ click, click,” and whirling to face every 
change of the wind. 

I crawled through the hole without any trouble 
and as soon as I was in the stable, I lighted the 
candle and stuck it on a barrel out of the breeze. 
The horses raised their heads and looked at me, 
but they did not show that they recognized me. 

The air was full of fine dust and I could hear 
the dull thud of the axe as Jim worked indus- 
triously breaking in the wall. I found two half 
filled sacks of grain standing in a corner and gave 
the horses a generous feed. They were just about 
to whinny when they saw me close but I dumped 
the grain into the box and that diverted their at- 
tention. Then I went around back of the stalls, 
where the saddles hung on wooden pegs. 

Just as I passed by the door it was violently 
shaken, like someone trying to get in, and I stopped 
and listened breathlessly, then the door was shaken 
again, like someone was pulling it. But it was 
the wind which was blowing fiercely through the 
hole that Jim was widening. 

I took down a heavy Mexican saddle, with its 
high horn and its leather skirt prettily carved and 
underneath was sheepskin. Bill winced down when 
I threw it on his back, then I drew the leather cinch 
tight as I could, for it would not do to have the 


6o 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


saddle turn if we had to make a run for it. There 
was no telling how soon we might be disturbed. 

I then put a similar saddle on Black Carl, but 
left the bridles hanging on the hooks, until the 
horses had finished their feed. Then a bright idea 
came to me. 

“ ril fix that gang,’’ I said to myself, so that 
they will be delayed even if they do find that we 
have got the horses.” 

There were two remaining saddles and bridles 
hanging back of the stalls. I took my bowie knife 
from its sheath at my belt. Then I went to work 
and carved up those saddles in fine style. I also 
cut the cinches into little bits and the hair girths 
too. I put the small iron rings the cinches went 
through, in my pocket. 

I did the same for the bridles. Then I picked 
up the first saddle and started with it towards the 
north end of the barn where there was a lot of loose 
hay thrown down. The wind was blowing at a 
great rate and rattling everything, me included. 
I had just stepped into the hay when suddenly out 
of the further corner rose a black figure. I could 
just indistinctly make out a pale face and gleam- 
ing eyes. 

I stood petrified with terror for a moment, then 
I raised the saddle high over my head, and was 
about to hurl it, when to my immense relief, I saw 


WE MEET OBSTACLES 


6i 


it was a black calf with a white face. It was as 
much scared as I was, perhaps that is what made 
its face so white. 

I hid the saddles far down in the hay. I had 
just done this when Jim came in, covered with 
sweat and dirty as a coal miner. 

All aboard,” he said, “ I have finished my job. 

So have I,” and I told him what I had done. 

Good for you, Jo, that’s the stuff,” said Jim, 
heartily. “ Now we will get the horses and start. 
It’s just twelve o’clock. “Hello, what’s that?” he 
cried, gazing into the far corner. I grinned. 

“ That’s a black calf. What did you suppose it 
was. Not afraid of veal, I hope? ” 

“ I thought it was a man. Well let’s get the 
horses.” 

I put the bridle on Bill, who was my favorite, 
because he was perfectly gentle and Jim took Black 
Carl. We backed them as slowly and carefully as 
we could out of the stalls so as not to make any 
unnecessary noise. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE PURSUIT 

We led the horses around; Jim in the lead with 
Black Carl, but when he reached the opening in 
the wall, Jim’s horse pulled back violently, almost 
knocking me over. Jim yanked at his head and 
slapped his flank, but he would not budge. It did 
seem as if there was no end to the obstacles which 
we met. 

“ Hold on, Jim,” I said, “ let me have the lead. 
My horse is gentler and has got better sense than 
that old black beast.” 

‘‘ I believe he has,” said Jim, who was disgusted. 

I took Bill firmly by the bridle and though he put 
his ears forward and stepped gingerly, he went 
right through and Carl followed after him rather 
than be left behind. 

Just then my horse stepped on a board across a 
ditch and it snapped with a report like a pistol. 

There was an immediate alarm in the shanty and 
we saw a light struck and heard the sound of hoarse 
voices and oaths. 

Hurry up with that axe, Jim, and cut the fence, 
62 


THE PURSUIT 


63 


we haven’t any time to lose.” Jim was soon hacking 
violently at the barb wire but it was too tough. 
Then he swung at a post with all his might and 
broke it off near the ground. Then he held the 
wires down until I got over and I did the same for 
him. 

At last we were free and swung into the saddle. 
What if the stirrups were long. It was just in time 
for the horse thieves swarmed out of the shanty 
angry as bees. 

We put our horses to the run. It was no use try- 
ing to conceal ourselves any longer. We were 
now in the open. 

As we charged up the hill, several rifle shots rang 
out and z-z-zing went the bullets over our heads. 
Our horses, thoroughly frightened, were going at 
top speed. Before another round was fired we were 
beyond the hurt of danger and safe on the other 
side of the ridge. 

Unslinging his rifle, Jim dismounted. 

Another shot and those fellows would have got 
us, they don’t miss more than once, even on a dark 
night. Here, Jo, hold the horses and give them a 
chance to blow. I am going to take a look over 
the ridge.” 

He went back a few paces and I could see him 
as he crouched like a shadow on the top of the hill, 
then suddenly he brought his rifle to his shoulder 


64 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


and fired, then three times in rapid succession, and 
there was no uncertainty in his aim. 

“ Well, what was it ? I asked as he hurried back. 

Two of them running up the hill, but I stopped 
them all right.’’ 

“ Did you hit any of them ? ” I inquired, eagerly. 

“ I guess not, but I made them stop and think. 
I allowed for shooting down hill and I bet I gave 
them some dust instead of singing the bullets over 
their heads.” 

‘‘ We had better be moving, Jim,” I urged. 

‘‘All right, let the horses cut out now for sev- 
eral miles and the next time we stop we will fix 
those stirrups.” 

Neither of us will ever forget that exhilarating 
ride over the prairies in the darkness. Our horses 
were fresh and the very uncertainty of the ground 
under the animals’ feet made it more exciting. 
Then, too, we had won out on this terribly trying 
night and we felt somewhat proud of ourselves. I 
hardly think you can blame us very much either. 

“ Ain’t this great,” yelled Jim to me. “ I bet the 
boys at home would like to be in our boots.” 

“ Once is enough for me,” I yelled back, “ I don’t 
need so much continuous excitement.” 

“ Oh, you are dead slow,” replied Jim. 

“ Maybe I am slow, but my horse isn’t.” 

Taking this as a challenge, he urged Black Carl 


THE PURSUIT 


65 


ahead of me and got a length in the lead before 
I could hold him, then I let Billy out and he fairly 
flew and in half a mile he was twenty feet ahead. 

Then I saw a gully in front of me and pulled in 
with all my might. Bill stopped with his front 
feet knocking dirt into the ravine. Jim had plenty 
of time. 

'‘Why didn’t you take it?” 

"Take what?” I asked. 

" Why, the jump, of course, it’s only ten feet 
wide.” 

" That’s ten too wide for me,” I said. " Let’s rest 
the horses now and fix the stirrups. I’m tired of 
riding on the horn. Do you suppose those fellows 
will follow us ? ” 

" Of course they will,” Jim replied, " but it will 
take them a half hour at least to find where their 
traps are and get things fixed.” 

" I don’t see what they can do,” I said, " their 
saddles and bridles are done for.” 

" Well, they will rig up some sort of rope bridle. 
You needn’t think they are going to let us off as 
easy as this. They won’t do a thing to us if they 
catch us.” This was a discouraging view of affairs. 

" They won’t take us alive, that’s certain,” I 
said, looking back apprehensively, to see if there 
were any mounted men showing on the skyline. 

"It’s a little too soon to see them,” remarked 


66 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


Jim. ‘‘We have made fine time and we can take it 
a little slower now. I wonder how Tom and the 
Missourian are getting along. 

“ It’s funny,” I said, “ but we have n’t thought of 
Tom till just now. I suppose we had so much else 
on our minds.” 

“ This is a lot more comfortable with the stirrups 
shortened,” remarked Jim. “ It gives you a better 
purchase and you can feel the horse under you.” 

We rode on in silence for some time, beginning 
to feel the reaction from the long spell of excite- 
ment. I must have drowsed off as we rode along, 
for I wakened with a start. 

“ Why, it’s light,” I exclaimed, but it was not 
daylight. The moon was rising and radiating the 
plains with its clear splendor. 

“No sign of those fellows yet,” I said, looking 
back where everything looked clear and peaceful 
as far as the horizon. 

“ I am afraid that their horses are faster than 
ours,” said Jim. “ Those bronchos have lots of 
speed and they don’t tire either.” 

“We can’t be more than two miles from the 
creek,” I said. “ Isn’t that the line of trees we 
see over there ? ” 

“ It looks like it was,’’ replied Jim. “ If we once 
get there we can stand them off, even if there was a 
dozen.” 


THE PURSUIT 


67 


Something made me look around just then. 

“ There they come ! ” I exclaimed ; there were 
three men coming rapidly down the slope behind 
us. 

“ Now for it/’ yelled Jim, and we made our horses 
fairly fly. But in spite of all we could do they 
were gaining on us, but still they must have been 
a couple of miles behind, but they were coming 
like mad. Our horses were tiring fast, for they 
were not used to such strenuous work. At last we 
reached the shadow and shelter of the cottonwoods, 
but we were still five miles from camp, with no 
chance of reaching it. 

Either we must make our stand here or escape by 
some stratagem that would throw the desperadoes 
off the trail. 

“We have five minutes to spare at least,” said 
Jim, “ before those fellows get here, and we will 
have to do something quick.” He thought for a 
moment. 

“ There’s the island over there, it might help 
us.” 

“ Let’s cross over and hide in the brush,” I said. 

“ That won’t do, they will see from our horses’ 
tracks where we crossed.” 

“ Can’t we hide them someway ? ” I asked. 

“ We’ll try. Follow me. There is a board 
against that tree, just what I want,” and riding up 


68 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


the bank of the stream for a short distance, he laid 
the board, which was almost twelve feet long and 
heavy, so that one end sloped into the water. Then 
he walked Black Carl, who was docile enough by 
this time, down into the stream and I followed. 

Jim next lifted the board and pulled it into the 
stream and we rode splashing down the middle of 
the creek, the horses sending the water in big 
drops around and over us. It was refreshing after 
our long, hard ride. 

In a minute we had reached the end of the island 
and rode into the security of the trees and heavy 
bushes just in time, as the horse thieves dashed 
into the shadow of the trees, sure that they wouM 
capture us soon. 

Here’s where they went. Bill,” yelled a voice 
which we recognized as Cal Jenkins, “ follow their 
trail and see where they crossed the creek.” After 
a careful search he gave it up. 

‘‘ It’s no use, Boss, the trail stops here,” and Cal 
Jenkins, with all his fuming and growling, could 
do no better. 

They spent some time working back and forth 
and then gave it up. 

It’s getting daylight. Cal,” we heard one of 
them say, '' and we’ll have to leave. It won’t be 
healthy for us around here long after sunrise.” 


THE PURSUIT 


69 


“ ril get even with those cursed kids yet,” we 
heard him growl, as he rode off. We were to run 
across his trail again, but not in this chapter of 
our lives. 


CHAPTER IX 


AT CAMP AGAIN 

We waited until they had disappeared entirely 
before we ventured out of our island retreat. 

It won’t be long until sunrise now,” said Jim, 
“ we will be in time to have breakfast with Tom.” 

Let’s take it easy for the rest of the way,” I 
said, I have had enough exercise to last me for 
awhile.” 

“ Gee ! but I’m sleepy,” admitted Jim, stretching 
his arms almost out of their sockets, the bunks for 
me when we get back to camp.” 

We rode slowly up the bank of t. “^ek, the 
birds were chirping in the boughs the cotton- 
woods and the stream running brightly through the 
sunshine and the shadow. 

It was certainly a beautiful morning, but some- 
how it seemed different from any morning within 
our experience, because we had been up for a 
couple of nights and had gone through so much. 

Hello, there’s the camp,” I cried as I caught 
sight of a piece of white canvas through the trees. 
I wonder where Tom is. I don’t see any sign of 
70 



“THEN HE WALKED BLACK CARL DOWN INTO THE STREAM 
AND I FOLLOWED.” 

Frontier Bovs on Overland trail. 





AT CAMP AGAIN 


71 


him.’^ Evidently he had heard our voices, for he 
rushed out of the tent. 

“ Hurrah ! ’’ he yelled, you’ve got the horses.” 
This brought “ Missouri ” out and he waved his hat 
and yelled too. We thought it was his sense of 
humor till we found that he and Tom had become 
regular chums. 

Howdy, boys,” he said, graciously, shaking us 
by the hand. Did you get my terbacker ? ” 

Sorry, ‘ Missouri,’ but your old pal. Cal Jen- 
kins, was so fussy,” I said, “ when he found that we 
had got the horses from under his nose, that we 
didn’t dare mention the subject.” Missouri 
grinned. 

“ He^s a perticular old gent and hates to lose 
any horses when he’s collected them himself.” 

Let’s have breakfast,” Tom said. Come on, 
‘ Missouri.’ ” 

“ I can always eat something without being 
propped up with pillows. And Tommy is a good 
cook,” I added. 

We had our breakfast outside in the shade of a 
big cottonwood, as the tent was getting pretty hot. 
The bill of fare was fried potatoes, bacon, coffee 
and cakes, the kind of meal you pay a dollar for 
on a dining car in these degenerate days, and we had 
enough so that it was a real breakfast and not an 
appetizer. As we ate our breakfast we told of 


72 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


our experience at the Jenkins ranch, and every once 
in a while Missouri ’’ would throw his head back 
and laugh. 

I wonder what Cal said when he found the 
horses gone and his saddles missing. I bet the air 
was bluer than indigo around those diggings. 
Lucky he didn’t catch you little rascals, he would 
have skinned you alive.” 

We heard him say that he would get even with 
us,” I said. 

“ I wouldn’t stay around these parts longer than 
necessary, if I was you boys,” he warned, “ be- 
cause if Cal once gets it in for anybody, he’ll fol- 
low them and get even somehow, that’s his style.” 

After we were through Tom told us his interest- 
ing narrative, so we didn’t have all the fun our- 
selves. 

“ Well, boys. I’m sorry to leave you, but the best 
of friends must part. I would be obliged to you 
Tommy, if you would let me have my gun.” 

We looked doubtful at this, but Tom agreed. It 
was all right too, because Missouri ” was friendly. 

‘‘ You can take it, ‘ Missouri,’ because you might 
be lonesome on the prairie without it.” 

You’re Ai, Tommy, I won’t forgit you-uns and 
if I cut Cal Jenkins’ trail, war will break loose. 
Goodbye, boys,” he said, giving us each a hearty 
handshake, and he slouched off down the creek, 


AT CAMP AGAIN 


73 


and his big frame was soon lost sight of among the 
trees. We were to see him again, but not in Kan- 
sas, and only after many exciting months had gone. 

He isn't a bad fellow and he has had a hard 
life,” said Tom. His parents were dead poor, 
and did not have anything but children. So he had 
to earn his living ever since he could walk and he 
got into bad company.” 

1 think we had better move on this morning,” 
said Jim, ‘‘ after the horses get rested and have a 
good feed.” 

We all agreed and it did not take us long to 
strike the tent, for we were expert at that and soon 
had everything packed neatly in the wagon and were 
ready to move as soon as the horses had finished. 

“ Fm going to do a little fishing,” I said. 
“ Maybe I can’t shoot but I can catch fish.” 

I’m going to clean the guns,” said Jim. 

I left him putting a high polish on his rifle which 
was his especial pride. He was never happier than 
when he was working over it. As for Tom, he 
lay in the shade of a tree reading a story of the 
wild west. 

Humph ! ” he criticised, if the fellow who 
wrote this had had a live ‘ pointer ’ tree him, he 
would have had something to talk about.” 

I took my jointed bamboo rod, of which I was 
just as proud as Jim was of his rifle, and went up 


74 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


the creek for a half mile, where I found a deep 
pool across which a cottonwood tree had fallen. 
There I sat, throwing my line into the water, which 
was beautifully clear, and with a pebbly bottom. 
This was one of the few clear streams we ran 
across in Kansas. I had a conical float of green 
painted wood and every once in a while it would 
give a little bob as though a fish were nibbling at 
the bait and I waited anxiously for the pull that 
would yank it below the surface. The water was 
so clear that I could see the fish swimming around 
in the pool. At first they paid no attention to the 
bait. 

There was one big fellow I wanted especially. 
He must have been eighteen inches long. He 
swam lazily around and I gently brought the hook 
to his attention. He swam around it from all sides 
and then as another fish came along, he went for 
the bait, I gave a sudden pull, then, though he 
fought, I threw him flopping on the bank. In an 
hour’s time I had captured three and I went back 
to camp with my prizes. 

‘^What kind of fish are these?” asked Jim. ‘‘I 
never saw any like them back east.” 

“ I don’t know, but I reckon they will be good 
eating,” I replied. 

“ I bet they are full of bones,” said Tom. 

Not any more bones than your old grouse had,” 


AT CAMP AGAIN 


75 


I retorted, "'and they won’t be so tough, either.’* 
The meal was soon prepared and over. 

It’s time to hitch up, boys,” said Jim, and we 
soon got the horses into the harness and pulled out 
of the camp which we would always have cause 
to remember. 

“ It’s nice to be traveling again,” I said. " I 
wonder what adventure we will run into next. I 
have been reading a book about some fellows who 
found a lost mine in Colorado. They had hard 
times I tell you, and had to fight to keep it. I won- 
der if we will have any luck finding a mine. I 
hope we strike it rich.” 

"We stand as good a chance as anybody else,” 
Jim said, " and we will likely get in with some old 
prospector who knows the ropes.” 

" I ain’t worrying about any mines now,” I said. 
" What I want is a good sleep and if Tom drives, 
I’m going to turn in.” 

" Me too,” said Jim, and we made ourselves com- 
fortable on the bed in the back of the wagon. It 
seemed fine to lay back there while the horses 
trotted steadily along and we did not have to bother 
about anything. The prairie road was not jolty 
and we were soon lulled to sleep by the regular 
rumbling of the wagon. Suddenly I was awakened 
by two rifle shots in rapid succession. 

Jim was up in a jiffy and reaching for his rifle 


76 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


before he was fairly awake. The front of the 
wagon was full of smoke and Tom was just settling 
back in the seat. 

“ I missed him,” he said, but it was a hard 
shot.’^ 

Missed who?’’ I inquired. Cal Jenkins?” 

** No, you must have Cal Jenkins on the brain,” 
Tom replied, ** it was a band of antelope, about a 
half mile off. I shot at the big buck in the lead.” 

“ Well if you are going to wake me up, I hope 
you will hit something next time,” growled Jim. 

** Anyway,” continued Tom, “ it was a close call, 
the first shot kicked the dust this side of him 
and the next time I fired they were almost out of 
Tange. Say do you fellers know that it is about 
time I had a little sleep? I’m tired of sitting up 
here and listening to you snoring.” 

“ All right, Tom,” I said, “ I’ll take the wheel for 
this watch,” and I climbed over into the front seat, 
took the reins and called back : 

? “ It’s my turn to get the antelope.” 

'‘We would starve on the antelope you’d shoot,” 
said Tom, witheringly. 

“ Never mind, little boy, you go right to sleep,” 
I said, " and when it’s time for your bottle I will 
wake you up.” 

" You make me tired,” said Tom, as he threw 
himself on the bed. 


AT CAMP AGAIN 


77 


'' You will sleep all the better/’ I said. '' Get up, 
Carl; get up, Bill,” and we trotted steadily off. 

The face of the country had changed consider- 
ably while I had been asleep and was somewhat 
more rolling and broken. I kept a sharp outlook 
for antelope, but all I saw was a band of them 
feeding on a rise several miles to the north. They 
lifted their heads and looked at the wagon and 
then resumed their grazing. 


CHAPTER X 

THE BULLY 

We jogged along for about an hour and I was 
beginning to get drowsy, when I saw a sight that 
waked me up, it was not so exciting, but it was not 
pleasant. 

I was driving down a slope into a shallow, sandy 
basin, which was one large prairie dog town, with 
hundreds of the little mounds and the prairie dogs 
sitting up straight and stiff like sticks, by the holes, 
then quickly they would sit down on all fours and 
wag their short little tails as fast as lightning, then 
disappear down their holes like a flash. 

But what attracted my attention were grayish 
piles at short distances along the side of the road. 

At first I did not know what they were, but dis- 
covered they were dead rattlesnakes, that had been 
killed by travelers along this road. You see that 
these snakes make their home with the prairie 
dogs, and small owls completed the happy but pecu- 
liar family. The snakes crawl out in the sunshine 
and lay torpid so that they were easily killed. 

78 


THE BULLY 


79 


Late as it was in the afternoon there were hun- 
dreds of the rattlesnakes lying around. Some of 
them were stretched sluggishly across the road, the 
dust of which was marked by the trails of their 
bodies. One big fellow, about six feet in length, 
was directly in the middle of the road. 

I jumped down and took the heavy end of the 
blacksnake to him. He came for me, his head par- 
tially raised and his fanged mouth open. I jumped 
down to one side and hit him back of the head and 
stunned him, while he thrashed his body furiously 
in the dust of the road, another blow finished him 
for good, and I cut off his rattles as a memento. 
He must have been thirteen years old. 

When I climbed into the wagon the boys were 
still sleeping sweetly and I decided not to disturb 
them. It was now time to make camp and I drove 
on rapidly looking for some place where I could 
find water. 

Driving on for about a mile I crossed over into a 
board low valley, where there was plenty of water, 
as was shown by the green along the borders of a 
narrow, meandering stream. 

Come, boys, wake up ! ” I cried, weVe got to 
make camp,’' and they sat up, rubbed their eyes and 
looked at the landscape. 

There’s a farm ! Let’s camp near that,” said 
Tom, “ and we can get fresh milk and butter.” 


8o 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


There was also something else which we had not 
counted on, but it was a small matter in a way, but 
very disagreeable too. We made our camp near 
the road and about a quarter of a mile from the 
farm. 

I said if the boys would put up the horses and 
raise the tent, I would go to the house and get the 
provisions. 

“ All right, but hurry up,’^ said Tom, “ because 
we are mighty hungry.^^ 

I found a very nice old lady in the kitchen, who 
gave me a pail of milk and a pound of sweet, yellow 
butter. 

“ Where are you boys from,^’ she asked, and 
when I told her, she exclaimed, “ Laws sakes ! 
What are your folks thinking of to let you come 
way out here and going to Colorado too, where 
the Injuns will be sure to scalp you.’’ 

“ We aren’t afraid of them, ma’am,” I replied. 

“ Well you had better look out for the mosquitoes 
to-night, they are worse than Injuns. They will 
almost eat you and your horses up.” 

It was getting dusk when I returned towards the 
camp and I had just stepped into the road, when a 
big husky boy came up to me. He must have been 
about eighteen, heavy and strongly built. He 
stepped right across my path. 

“ Hello,” I said, ‘‘ ain’t it a beautiful evening.” 


THE BULLY 


8i 


“ You darn milksop,” he said, I’ll show you 
whether it is a beautiful evening. What ye’re do- 
ing around here anyway, you darn tenderfoot.” 

“ Excuse me, for living,” I said, backing across 
the road and keeping a wary eye on him. I knew 
he was looking for trouble and I set the pail down 
just in time, when he rushed at me, swinging his 
arms awkwardly, but with lots of strength. 

I wouldn’t have wanted him to strike me with 
those big fists of his. As he rushed at me I side- 
stepped and hit him a clip in the jaw that made 
him furious. This time I met him low in a tackle 
that every boy who has played football knows, and 
sent him sprawling over my head and he struck on 
his shoulder. 

I let him get up which was foolish of me, but 
pride often goes before instruction. As he came 
for me the third time, I stepped back, intending to 
give the farmer an uppercut that he would long 
remember, when I hit the back of my heel against a 
big stone and fell over, the big farmer boy on top 
of me. 

I protected my face as well as I could with my 
arms, and tried to get my leg around his and turn 
him over but he was too big and strong and was 
doing his level best to choke me, and had got a 
pretty good hold on my ear with his teeth. That’s 
what I got for being too smart. It looked as if I 


82 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


was going to get pretty well done up. Then I 
heard somebody running down the road. 

“ Come on, Tom,'’ Jim yelled, “ some fellow is 
doing Jo up.” In a second Jim had my new found 
friend around the neck and yanked him into the 
middle of the road, while Tom was twisting his 
leg. 

‘‘ Quit it, boys,” I said, “ don't hurt him,” for I 
knew it would be bad for the farmer if they tried 
any tricks on him. 

“ Let's have some fun with him,’^ cried Jim. 
Then Jim and Tom together yanked him to his 
feet, and he was indeed a comical object with his 
shock head of hair sticking up and his fat round 
face red as a beet. I went to the fence and picked 
up a piece of board. 

“ Now, Johnny,” I said, “ I’m going to give you 
a good spanking because your mama didn’t teach 
you to be polite when you were little.” 

Jim and Tom fell into the spirit of the occasion 
with great rapidity. Jim held him over his knees 
with his head down, while Tom sat on his legs. 
Remembering the hold he had got on my ear, I 
whacked him good and hard over the seat of his 
overalls with the board. 

‘‘ Now be a good boy and don’t kick,” urged 
Jim, ‘‘ you know it’s for your own good and it pains 


THE BULLY 


83 


papa very much, to have to punish you, doesn’t it 
papa ? ” 

“ You bet it does,” I said, giving him another 
resounding whack, '' and I guess it pains him too.” 
Then he began to blubber. 

Quit it, yer darn fool, your hurtin’ me. My 
big brother will kill you fellars. Boo-hoo.” 

Gee ! think of that,” said Jim, he’s got a 
brother bigger than he is. We had better look 
out.” The fellow rose to the bait. 

You’ll be sorry for this when he gets ahold of 
you.” Then we gave him the merry laugh. 

We’ll spank your brother too, if he ain’t a 
good boy,” Tom said, consolingly. 

Now,” I said, I won’t spank you any more 
if you will say you are sorry. Let him up, Jim.” 

This was done. Tom and Jim stood on either 
side of him with a hand on either shoulder, like 
policemen, while I confronted the culprit. 

“ Say it,” I commanded. He gulped ‘T’m sorry.” 
Jim took out a grimy handkerchief and wiped his 
tears tenderly away from his fat, red face. 

“ He’s sorry, papa, don’t whip him any more.” 

** I won’t, if he will say, ‘ I’ll be a good boy and 
not bite anybody’s ears off when they are littler 
than I am.’” 

I will be a good boy,” he snivelled, “ and I won’t 


84 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


bite anybody’s ears off when they are littler than I 
am.” 

Let him go now,” I said, “ he will be good.” 

“ Not by a darn sight,” said Tom, who was hard- 
hearted at times, a regular prosecuting attorney. 

I bet he’s bullied all the little boys and girls at the 
district school until they are as afraid as death of 
him.” 

‘‘ Who told you that,” inquired the rube, “ it 
must have been Jem Smith.” We laughed at this 
innocent give-away. 

“ Nobody need tell me anything about that,” 
said Tom, severely, “ anybody with half an eye can 
see what you are. You are just like a fellow we 
had at school, named Will Greer. He was cer- 
tainly a bad one. I think the best thing to do with 
him boys, is to drown him,” and he gave Jim and 
me the wink and with Jim and Tom pulling and I 
shoving behind for all I was worth, we got the pro- 
testing victim to the edge of the creek. 

‘‘ Oh, don’t drown me, please don’t drown me,” 
he pleaded, but Tom was obdurate. 

“ Have you any last words to send home,” he in- 
quired, solemnly. 

“ Here, let me cut a lock of his yellow hair,” said 
Jim, sentimentally. “ You are somebody’s darlin’, 
ain’t you, sonny.” 

“ Yes, I’m Marne Smith’s,” he cried. 


THE BULLY 85 

“ What’s her address ? ” inquired Jim, sooth- 
ingly. 

“ Oh, don’t drown me,” he pleaded, getting down 
on his knees. “ Marne will never get over it.” 

“ Neither will you,” said the hard-hearted Tom, 
and with a united shove we sent him head-first into 
the creek, which was not over three feet deep at the 
most. Then he crawled on the bank like a half- 
drowned rat. 

“ Now, that will do,” said Tom officially, “ and 
if we ever hear of you abusing any of the kids at the 
District School again, you will get something worse 
than this, you understand.” 

‘‘ Yes, sir,” he whimpered, meekly. 

“ Don’t you make any trouble about this or come 
around the camp with any of your gang to-night, 
to get even,” cautioned Tom, because if you do we 
will kill you.” 

“ I jest want to get home, that’s all,” he whined. 

“ Well, go,” we said in chorus, and good luck 
to you.” 


CHAPTER XI 


THE QUICKSANDS 

Do you think he will fetch his big brother and 
ring us up this evening ? I asked. 

'' Shucks. No ! We won’t hear from him 
again,” said Tom. 

This proved to be true, but we were not to be 
entirely free from disturbance, for what the old lady 
had said about the mosquitoes was perfectly correct. 
We had never seen anything like it. Poor Bill 
and Black Carl were eaten up with them and their 
hides were bloody where they had been bitten. 

I am not going to see those horses tormented 
this way,” said Jim, and he started a smudge back 
of the horses’ heels. Unfortunately he got the fire 
too close to Bill’s tail and that ornament caught fire. 
In frantic haste Tom threw a pail of water on him 
and the flame went out, but there was a strong smell 
of burning hair in the vicinity, and Bill’s beauty was 
quite spoiled. When we undertook to eat our sup- 
per, the mosquitoes settled on our hands and faces 
so that we could not eat, and the only way was to 
stand in the smoke of the fire. 

86 


THE QUICKSANDS 


87 


I don't care for smoked beef," remarked Jim, 
as we took a bite of meat. This certainly is fierce." 

“ What do you think, Jo," said Tom, when 
you went to the ranch house for the milk, I took the 
shotgun and went after some ducks on the creek, 
and when I tried to get a bead on them the mos- 
quitoes settled so thick on the barrel that I couldn't 
see the sights." 

“ Humph ! " I said, that's a good one. Do you 
take me for a tenderfoot ? " 

It's so, just the same," rejoined Tom, ain't it, 
Jim?" 

Of course it is," replied Jim, “ you tell that to 
the folks back east and they would give you the 
laugh, the same, as Jo. What's the use of hav- 
ing experience if people won't believe you when you 
tell them? " In this question Jim proposed a prob- 
lem we did not attempt to solve. 

There was no use of standing around to be ad- 
mired by the mosquitoes, so we turned in for the 
night. 

“ I hope we won't have any more disturbances," 
I remarked, ‘‘ because I want to get a square night's 
sleep for once." 

‘‘ You don’t think about anything except snooz- 
ing,” jeered Tom. I never saw such a fellow." 

" People with active minds have to have rest," I 
replied and with this shot, I left Tom and Jim to the 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


mosquitoes and went to sleep in the wagon. The 
dog, Ben, curled up in front, was the only comfort- 
able member of our party, because his hair was 
so thick, the mosquitoes could make no impression 
on him. 

I pulled the blankets over my head and went to 
sleep, but if I dreamed of unbroken slumbers, I 
was to be disappointed. About two o’clock in the 
morning I was awakened by a terrible noise and 
I looked out of the front of the wagon. 

It was a perfectly black night, overcast without 
a star shining. Ben had jumped out of the wagon 
and had run into the darkness barking furiously. 
Then I heard the sound again, like a long drawn 
wail, like someone in terrible trouble. Next came a 
succession of short, sharp barks, followed by that 
prolonged howl. 

“ What is it ? ” I asked of the other two boys, who 
had come out of the tent. 

I thought it was you snoring,” remarked Jim, 

it sounded considerable like it. 

“ Oh, did it,” I replied, “ you and Tom don’t need 
to talk.” 

Then came that awful racket again. 

“ It must be some sort of a wild animal,” said 
Tom, “ maybe it’s a wildcat.” 

“ Wildcats don’t go like that,” I said. 

Just then Ben began to yell and yelp and we ran 


THE QUICKSANDS 


80 


as fast as we could in the direction the cries came 
from. When we got near him we saw an animal 
of some kind slink away in the darkness. We fired 
a half dozen shots but probably did not come within 
a hundred yards of him. We found Ben pretty 
badly used up. Both ears had been chewed and he 
was bleeding. We took him to the wagon and 
fixed him up the best we could. 

'' Maybe it was another dog/’ said Tom. 

I never heard a dog with the delirium tremens 
who could make a racket like that,” I said. 

We found out after we had traveled into Kansas 
a little further, what it was that had disturbed us 
that night. It was just one lone, ordinary, mangy 
coyote, and we saw a good many of them on our 
travels, but we managed to kill only one out of the 
whole lot. They are so thin and shadowy that it is 
almost impossible to hit one and they are pretty 
foxy and know enough to keep out of range. 

The next morning we were up bright and early 
and were glad to strike the road and to get out of 
that valley of the mosquito. For several days we 
traveled along without further adventure, but the 
plains became wilder and lonelier the farther west 
we went. 

‘‘ I wonder what those little hollows we see every 
once in a while are?” I asked one day. Jim 
thought it over for awhile. 


go 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ I know/’ he said, those are buffalo wallows, 
where the bison used to come and roll with their 
big humps where the ground is soft.” 

We saw quite a number of them, often with reeds 
growing around them and forming shallow pools of 
water after, a rain. Occasionally from these little 
ponds we used to flush a flock of ducks. 

There were also the narrow trails where thou- 
sands of these American bison had gone in single 
file across the plains to new feeding grounds or to 
the river to get water. It was not so long ago 
when the prairies where we were now driving were 
covered with them. Finally in our travels we 
came to the Arkansas river. 

I don’t know how we are going to get across 
this stream,” I said. 

“ It looks shallow, even if it is a half mile across,” 
said Jim. I guess we can cross it all right.” 

This looked reasonable for the river was made 
up of shallow streams running between bars of 
mud and sand and silt. 

I don’t know what it is, but I’m afraid of that 
old Arkansas,” I said. 

Oh, you are always afraid of something,” 
laughed Jim. 

Tom said nothing, but seemed to be affected by 
some sort of a premonition. Finally we came to 
what looked like a ford and while we were hesi- 


THE QUICKSANDS 91 

tating, we saw a white covered wagon coming in 
the distance. 

Let's wait until these people come up/' said 
Tom, “perhaps they know more about this river 
than we do.” 

“ Good idea,” assented Jim ; “ you sometimes 
have a good idea in your head.” 

So we waited and in about a half an hour they 
came toiling along the road. There were two 
men, evidently prospectors, going west on the same 
errand we were. 

“Well, kids, what are you waiting for?” they 
jasked, “ do you think somebody is going to build 
you a bridge to cross over ? ” 

“ No, we were waiting for you to come up, be- 
cause we thought you might know more about the 
river than we did,” Tom said. 

“We ain’t going to wait here, that’s sartain,” the 
driver replied, “ somebody will get ahead of us and 
stake that mine we’re looking for in Colorady. If 
you kids are afraid, we will take the chance.” 

“ Yes, we are afraid,” said Tom quietly. 

“ Goodbye, boys,” we will see you later,” and 
they drove down the bank into the river. The 
horses seemed afraid and went gingerly along, 
humping themselves and jumping sideways with 
fear. 

All went well until they had gone about a hun- 


92 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


dred yards from the bank when the trouble began. 
The horses began to flounder and the two men beat 
them and shouted in panic, the further they got the 
worse it was. The wagon and horses sank deeper 
at every floundering step. We stood petrified by 
the horrible fascination of the sight. 


CHAPTER XII 


THE RUNAWAY 

Help ! Help ! ” the men cried in terror. 

“ Why don’t they get out and walk back. It’s 
their only chance,” said Tom. 

This they were preparing to do. The driver 
stepped out on the hub of the wagon, which was 
now almost level with the treacherous shifting sand. 
The poor horses had given up all effort and were 
sinking slowly down. 

The man stepped into the shallow water and in- 
stantly began to go down and as he pulled one leg 
partially out the other leg was submerged in the 
sand up to the knee. With a powerful wrench he 
twisted toward the wagon and throwing the upper 
part of his body forward he caught a spoke of the 
front wheel. Struggling frantically, he slowly and 
painfully pulled himself to the wheel and with the 
help of his partner, he got into the wagon but what 
a sorry refuge it was, for it was only a question 
of time before the whole wagon top and all would 
sink out of sight forever, swallowed by the hungry 
and insatiable sand. Already it was up to the bed 
93 


94 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


of the wagon. There seemed nothing for us to do 
but to stand there helpless and see the men go down 
before our eyes. 

“ What shall we do ? ” I cried, “ we can’t let 
them drown.” But if they had been upset far out 
in the ocean we could not have seemed more help- 
less as far as furnishing them aid was concerned. 

‘‘ There must be some boards around here,” said 
Jim. 

We looked hurriedly about, in the hope of find- 
ing something we could lay our hands on, but 
there was nothing but the river on one side and a 
grassy plain on the other and no house in sight. 

“ You would not find a board or anything like 
it in this part of Kansas,” remarked Tom. 

‘‘ They will sink out of sight right before our 
eyes,” I exclaimed, let’s wade out to them any- 
way.” 

‘‘ Don’t be a fool, Jo,” said Tom. “ What good 
would that do? You would just go down your- 
self.” Then Tom suddenly put his hands to his lips 
thus making a funnel to carry his words. 

‘‘ Throw out everything in your wagon,” he 
yelled, “ and it won’t sink so fast.” 

“ That’s a good scheme, Tom,” said Jim, as the 
men began to throw out bedding, tools, sacks of 
provisions, etc. 

“ You see the body of the wagon won’t go down 


THE RUN A WAY 


95 


as fast as the wheels and the running gear/’ said 
Tom, especially when she is lightened by getting 
the truck out of her, and it will give us time to 
help.” 

“ Say, boys, come on, I have a scheme that might 
work,” said Jim, and he ran to the wagon and got 
out the lariat ropes that we used for the horses. 

That’s the idea,” exclaimed Tom, ‘‘ now tie 
them together.” 

This we did and it made quite a stretch of rope, 
though whether it would be long enough was open 
to question. Still we could but try. So taking off 
our shoes, socks and pants, we started to wade out 
to the rescue. 

At no place was it over a foot in depth and the 
footing was mud in some places, in others it 
was sand. We followed as closely as we could 
the line taken by the wagon but it was guess work 
in a way for the shifting sands had erased all marks 
of the unfortunate wagon’s wheels. 

I got quite a scare for I got a little to one side 
of the firm ground and began to go down with one 
foot. Ne\er shall I forget the sensation of help- 
less fear as I began to sink. 

“ Don’t struggle,” yelled Tom to me. Here, 
catch this rope,” and I held on for dear life, as they 
pulled me out, the heavy sucking sand clinging and 
holding me back but at last they pulled me into 


96 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


comparative solid footing. We ventured as near 
as we dared to the wagon. Tom had tested the 
sand ahead and found that we could go no further. 

All ready now, catch this rope,’’ Tom yelled to 
the man standing in the back of the wagon. We 
could see the other man back of him, swilling some 
liquor down from a black bottle. 

“ Hold on ! ” commanded Tom, ‘‘ if you don’t 
drop that bottle we will leave you. We can’t do 
anything with a drunken man.” 

‘‘ All right, Pard,” he assented and shoved the 
bottle into his back pocket for further reference. 
Tom now threw the rope towards the man, but it 
fell short. What were we to do. 

Have you any rope in the wagon ? ” yelled 

Jim. 

Nary bit,” replied the fellow, “ we threw every- 
thing out. Hain’t you got any more?” 

“ No we haven’t,” replied Tom. I tell you 
what you do, cut the reins and throw them to us.” 

All right, captain,” replied the man and he lost 
no time in doing as he was told. Tying the heavy 
leather into a ball he threw it to us without any 
difficulty. I caught it on the fly and then came 
another question. How were we to fix the leather 
and the rope together so that it would hold the 
weight of the men. 


THE RUNAWAY 


97 


‘‘We haven’t a knife or anything,” said Jim, 
starting to feel in his pockets only to find that he 
had no pants on. 

“ You will have to run back, Jo,” said Tom, 
“ because you have the most speed, and get a knife 
and you will find a piece of wire in the grub 
chest.” 

I started back as fast as I could go for the bank, 
the water splashing from my feet and it was pretty 
near a record fgr a hundred yards, in that part of 
Kansas. I struck one soft spot but I made extra 
time and got over safely. I got what was ordered 
and flew back, not taking more than a minute for 
the round trip. Tom took his knife and made a 
slit in the leather, through which the rope was put 
and tied, then wired to make it more secure. 

“ Now we are all ready,” said Tom, and with a 
strong throw he sent the rope towards the man in 
the back of the wagon. It went a little wide. 
“ Here, Jo,” commanded Tom, “ you try your 
hand.” 

The wagon had now sunk half way down in the 
sand. I was determined to justify my ability in 
accuracy and it was an appropriate time. So I 
poised myself and made a cast with the rope, per- 
haps my experience in throwing a fish line helped 
me. At least the first throw went direct into the 


98 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


back of the wagon and the man caught it. He 
tied it under his arms and climbed into the water. 

‘‘ Lay flat down,” directed Tom. 

He did as he was told and all three of us pulled 
strong and steadily, so that gradually we got him 
to the comparatively safe sand. His partner, the 
man with the bottle, gave us more trouble because 
he was under the influence of liquor. His head 
went down into the water the first thing, which 
brought him partially to his senses, and he floun- 
dered through the mud and water like an awkward 
flapping turtle. At last we got him onto terra 
firma, at least as firma as the river afforded. 

They were sorry looking objects indeed, dripping 
with water and thoroughly muddy. As for the 
horses, the poor unfortunate creatures who were 
straining to hold their heads above the muddy 
water, there was only one thing to do. 

It was Jim’s work, because he was a really fine ^ 
shot. Just as he fired the last bullet we heard a 
racket behind us and there our team was streak- 
ing across the prairie, the wagon rattling and 
jouncing behind them. 

What possessed them we could not guess, for 
they had always been perfectly docile and well 
broken to shooting. But horses are peculiar crea- 
tures and very sensitive sometimes to anything un- 
usual in their surroundings. No doubt the strug- 


THE RUN A WAY 


99 


gling animals in the river and the quick shots were 
too much for them. 

However, it was a condition and not a theory 
that we had to deal with. It was a bad condition, 
too, for we were miles from any ranch. We did 
not know the country and had nothing but our rifles 
with us. 

We were thoroughly frightened and rushed out 
of the river yelling whoa,” ‘‘whoa,” at the top 
of our voices. It would have been very quick, 
quick sands that would have held us back. With- 
out stopping to put on our clothes, we started on 
a great cross country run, our shirt tails waving 
in the breeze. I being the fastest, was consider- 
ably in the lead, striding out in great shape, but the 
horses had too great a handicap, and I had not 
covered over two hundred yards when the wagon 
bounced high over a distant ridge and disap- 
peared, the white of the cover like the flash of 
an antelope’s tail. I glanced back and the rest 
of the field was strung out, with Tom in the 
rear bringing our clothes, while the two ex-pros- 
pectors stood on the bank shouting in great glee 
at the sport and no doubt making wagers on the 
result. 

My wind did not fail me, as I was in fine con- 
dition, hard as nails, and if I had been on the 
track I could not have been more lightly clad for 


100 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


the occasion. When I reached the ridge I looked 
into the distance, expecting to see the white wagon 
on the edge of the horizon, but not a speck or a 
sail could I see. Then I looked down the long 
slope, and wonderful to relate, but it is absolutely 
true, there was the wagon not over a quarter of 
a mile away at a full stop. Slightly careened to 
one side but apparently all right and the horses 
were still hitched to it. But what had stopped 
them, I could not guess. 

I knew very well that the two crazed and fright- 
ened horses would never stop of their own accord, 
not till they had killed themselves or broken their 
legs. 

But I did not tarry to guess about the matter, 
but waving to Jim and Tom, I hip-hoped down the 
slope as fast as I could, for I now realized how 
sore my feet were. Coming up with the runaways, 
I found that the front wheels were wedged into a 
little gully not more than five feet across, while the 
back wheels were canted up on the other side. 

Nothing seemed to have been broken and there 
they were, captured as neat as you please. I did 
not fall on the horses' necks and weep at our sud- 
den and unexpected reunion, but I gave them as 
severe a licking as I dared under the circumstances, 
for the fright they had given us, while Ben jumped 
around and barked in great excitement. 


THE RUN A WAY 


lOI 


Tom and Jim soon came tearing down the hill, 
also like a pair of runaways, for they could not get 
to the scene too soon. 

Well, of all lucky things,’’ panted Jim, “ if 
this doesn’t beat me.” 

And for about five minutes all we could do was 
to exclaim over our wonderful luck. 

But to this day none of us can think of the 
runaway without a sinking of the heart, when we 
recall how we felt when we first caught sight of 
that team streaking across the prairie, the big 
wagon swaying and jouncing behind them. 

It did not take us long to get the wagon out and 
we made the horses travel on our way to the river 
where we were to camp. Tom drove, while Jim 
and I spent the time examining our feet and pick- 
ing out the more prominent cacti thorns. As for 
the prospectors, we did not see them. But we were 
to meet them again in a short time under circum- 
stances that we could not have possibly foreseen. 


CHAPTER XIII 


WE MEET A FRIEND 

When we woke up the next morning the broad 
Arkansas River was still between us and our line 
of travel. 

How in the mischief, Tom, are we going to 
get across this river?” I asked. ‘'We can’t build 
a bridge, because there isn’t any lumber.” 

“ No, there is not enough lumber, even to make 
a boat,” said Jim. 

“ What good would a boat be in a river like this, 
that’s half mud and sand? ” said Tom. “ There is 
just one thing for us to do, and that is to keep 
moving until we strike a bridge. No fords for 
us!” 

(Perhaps the boy who is reading these lines is 
more ingenious than we were and could have 
thought of a scheme to get across the river, but 
we could not.) 

“That’s right,” said Jim, “what might be a 
good ford one day, would be bad the next, because 
the sands shift so.” 

Accordingly, we hitched up and drove on up 
the river until about noon. At that time I was 


102 


WE MEET A FRIEND 


103 


Stationed on the bridge on the front seat, doing the 
driving, when I saw something that made me 
bring the team to a halt. Tom and Jim were loll- 
ing in the back of the wagon. 

“ Hello, boys,’’ I said, what’s that dark line 
ahead of us up the creek?” 

Tom put his hand to his forehead and peered 
into the distance, his eyes were as sharp as a sail- 
or’s, anyway. 

That,” he finally announced, is what we have 
been looking for, it’s the bridge.” 

Hurrah,” we yelled in chorus, for we did not 
wish to spend the remainder of our lives on the 
south side of the Arkansas River. 

In about an hour we came to the approach of the 
bridge. There was nothing imposing about the 
structure, but it suited us all right. It looked to 
be a half mile long, was built of wood, with sides 
of boards about five feet in height and was sup- 
ported by piles driven into the ground. The bridge 
was so narrow that only one team could cross at a 
time, but there was no great traffic in that part of 
Kansas, so we started across without fear of meet- 
ing anybody. Jim looked down at the river as we 
were crossing over and shook his fist. “ You won’t 
get us this time, darn your old hide ! ” 

Jim was always something of an orator and was 
apt to get wrought upon occasion. 


104 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ Why don’t you speak ‘ Horatius at the Bridge/ 
Jim ? ” I said, you know you are the Boy Orator of 
Watkins Creek (a local stream near our*old home). 

This riled Jim because he took himself seriously, 
when it came to public speaking, and besides 
“ Regulus to the Carthagenians,” to which refer- 
ence has been made, his repertoire also included 
Cicero’s remarks on Cataline or Kickero. We 
had not yet reached the unhappy stage where we 
had to translate Cicero’s remarks to the Conscript 
Fathers ” from the Latin into chaste and accurate 
English that takes all the oratory out of it. 

Now I began to spout this chestnut : “ What’s 
banished but set free? Freed from the chains I 
loathe.” This I did in Jim’s most oratorical man- 
ner and he immediately began to lambast me with 
a pillow and we rolled over and over on the bed 
in the back of the wagon. 

Hold on, there,’* we heard Tom yell, but he 
was not speaking to us and we stopped our scrap- 
ping and looked out of the front of the wagon. We 
saw a farmer just driving his wagon up the incline 
of the bridge. 

We were two-thirds of the way across and he 
had to back down, which he managed to do. He 
was somewhat riled, but when he saw it was three 
boys he cheered up and was quite pleasant. 

“Fine morning, boys,” he said. 




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“NOW I’LL SHOW YOU THE WAY.’’ 
Frontier Boys on Overland trail. 


JVE MEET ^ A FRIEND 


105 


“ It is that,” replied Tom, “ sorry to have made 
you this trouble, but we had the start.” 

“ That’s all right ; I ought to have been more 
keerful, but you don’t see many people drivin’ in 
this section of the country. Where are you boys 
bound for ? ” 

“We are going to Colorado,” Tom said, “ to try 
to make our fortune in the gold mines; won’t you 
come along, we would be glad to have you ? ” 

“ I guess,” the old fellow laughed, “ I’ll make 
more money raising cattle and hogs right here in 
Kansas. It just comes to me that you boys had 
better camp at my place to-night and my wife will 
get you a good supper. I guess you won’t mind a 
change of cooks for one evening. It will be kind 
of nice to get your legs under a table again.” 

“We would be mighty glad to,’* we said in 
chorus, “ and much obliged to you.” 

“ That’s settled, now I will tell you how you can 
reach my place. It’s twelve miles from here, and 
that will keep up your average, I guess.” 

“ Yes,” said Tom, “ that’s right, we calculate to 
make about twenty-five miles a day and we have 
already gone about a dozen.” 

“ Now I’ll show you the way,” so he got down 
from his wagon and began to draw a diagram in 
the dust while we stood around watching him care- 
fully, while Tom squatted on his haunches, follow- 


io6 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


ing the old man intently, for Tom was somewhat 
of an authority on ways and means. 

Now you follow this road along the river for 
six miles until you came to a cross road that runs 
northwest. There’s a shanty with one cottonwood 
tree near it,” and he made two dots in the dust 
representing the tree and shanty. You take this 
road to the right for five miles until you reach a 
grass road that branches off and at the end of it 
you come to my place, a one-story cottage with 
some trees around it. You can’t miss it and tell 
my wife I sent you and it will be all right. I’ll be 
home before evening.” 

We thanked him as he climbed into his wagon 
and drove off. We took up the road indicated and 
after a while we reached the first fork and took 
the road the old man had said. 

There was no trouble so far, but we had a warm 
discussion when we came to a slightly traveled road 
that branched off several miles farther on. 

This must be it,” I said, for I was doing the 
driving and I prepared to turn off, but Jim inter- 
fered promptly. 

“ You’re daffy,” he exclaimed, this isn’t a grass 
road.” 

It looks it to me,” I said. 

That’s because you have green in your eye.” 

Tom seized the reins and turned back into the 


WE MEET A FRIEND 


107 


main road while I subsided into obscurity in the 
back of the wagon. 

“ Here’s the grass road, all right,” said Tom, 
after a while. 

“ There’s quite a town over there,” I said, and 
we looked at it with great curiosity for it was a 
long time since we had seen anything of the sort. 
It appeared to be a good sized place, with the spires 
of two churches and a large brick building that 
was probably the public school. 

I wonder what’s the name of it,” said Jim. 

“ Search me,” replied Tom, I never saw it be- 
fore.” 

We could now see at the end of the grass road 
a group of buildings that marked the farm which 
was our destination. We were glad to see it, for a 
heavy storm was coming up black from the west, 
darkening the whole extent of the plains and mak- 
ing them look bleak and desolate. 

We felt a little strange and awkward about go- 
ing to a house where we were not expected. But 
as soon as the old lady came to the door we felt at 
home. I speak of her as old, still her hair was not 
gray, but a plain brown, brushed smoothly, her 
dress was of gray, old-fashioned and neat. Her 
form was bent with hard work, but her face was 
kindly and placid. 

'' Come in, boys, I am glad you met my hus- 


io8 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


band. We don’t have much company and it does 
seem good to see young folks. Come right in the 
sitting room and make yourselves at home. I will 
have my son put your team in the barn.” 

“ I will go out and help him,” said Jim. 

Tom and I sat in the sitting room, somewhat ill 
at ease at being inside of a house, for we were 
something like wild Indians, having been in the 
open so long. It was a neat little room, with an 
old time carpet on the floor with a large but not 
gaudy pattern. 

On the walls were two enlarged crayons of Mr. 
and Mrs. Hoskins, for that was their name, and 
one of their boys, when he was four years old, in a 
black suit with wide white collar. On the small 
table in the center of the room was a big beveled 
Bible with gilt edges, and on the stand underneath, 
the family album. I got this out and began to 
look at the family pictures while Tom sat at the 
window watching the storm thunder up from the 
West. 

'' Here comes Mr. Hoskins,” exclaimed Tom, 
hurrying to beat the band ; let’s go out and help 
him unhitch before the storm strikes,” and we 
rushed out. 

“ Hello, boys,” he said, ‘‘ I am glad to see you 
got here all right.” 


JVE MEET A FRIEND 


109 


“We couldn’t have missed it according to your 
diagram, Mr. Hoskins,” said Tom. 

“ My wife often makes fun of my drawing di- 
rections for folks,” he laughed. 

We helped him unhitch and got the horses in 
the barn just in time when the rain came with a 
sweeping rush borne on gusts of wind. It was a 
comfortable stable and we were glad to have our 
horses safe from the storm. 

“ We will have to run for it,” said Mr. Hoskins, 
and we all made a dash for the house. As we en- 
tered there was a good homely smell of cooking, 
meat and vegetables. 


CHAPTER 'XIV 

PLANS FOR THE FOURTH 

How we did enjoy that supper, after our month’s 
camping out. There was boiled chicken and real 
gravy, sweet potatoes and Irish, a big dish of boiled 
cabbage, generous cups of coffee, and to finish up 
with a true American pie. Mrs. Hoskins was a 
good motherly sort of woman and much interested 
in our travels. 

To think of you boys coming all this way alone ; 
I should think your mothers would be terribly wor- 
ried. Suppose you were taken sick, who would 
take care of you?” 

“ We could not get sick, living out of doors, 
Mrs. Ploskins, it’s too healthy,” laughed Jim. 

That’s right, ma,” put in Mr. Hoskins, “ If I 
was ten years younger, I would hitch up the team 
and we would go to Colorado with the boys and 
make our fortune in the mines.” 

Don’t speak of such a thing, Father,” she said, 
“ those terrible Indians that are out there. We 
have suffered enough from those brutes already.” 
no 


PLANS FOR THE FOURTH 


III 


There was a vindictiveness in her voice that 
was surprising in one so gentle. 

“ Why, have you seen Indians around here ? 
Jim asked. 

“ Yes, VN^hen we first came they were all through 
this country,” said Mr. Hoskins, ‘‘ and sometimes 
they went on the warpath,” and his face grew grim 
as iron. I was down the creek after wood one 
day and my wife was out in the barn for something, 
when those red devils sneaked around. Our little 
boy and girl were sleeping in the house and they 
stole them and burnt the house and I got back just 
in time to save my wife.” 

A silence settled down on us and through it I 
am sure, they felt the sympathy we could not speak. 
It was one of those terrible tragedies that lie hidden 
in a family of which nothing is ever said. 

“ Well,” said Tom, finally, “ when^ we get a 
chance at those Indians, we will help make them 
pay for that.” 

“ I don’t want you boys to feel that way,” said 
Mrs. Hoskins, because it isn’t right; perhaps the 
children are alive — they took them out West — ” 
and there her voice failed her, but the same thought 
was in all our minds. 

“ Was there any marks by which the children 
could be distinguished, Mrs. Hoskins ? ” asked 
Tom. 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


112 

Little George had the tip of his middle finger 
cut oflf/' she said. 

It was on the left hand,” added Mr. Hoskins. 

‘‘ Yes,” continued Mrs. Hoskins, “ and little 
Mary had an old fashioned coral necklace that used 
to belong to me when I was a girl.” 

“ We will not forget, Mrs. Hoskins,” said Jim, 
“ and perhaps we may find some trace of them in 
our travels in Colorado.” 

“ God grant it,” said Mrs. Hoskins, fervently. 

- You boys had better stay here for a few days,” 
said Mr. Hoskins, breaking away from the sub- 
ject, “ and get rested up and have some home cook- 
ing. It won’t hurt you any.” 

** We would like it first rate,” we said in unison. 

“ Do stay,” urged his wife, you know we will 
be glad to have you.” 

Yes,” put in Will Hoskins, you fellows stay 
over the Fourth of July, there is going to be lots 
of fun in town, foot-races, shooting matches and a 
baseball game in the afternoon. 

“ Sure, let’s stay,” said Jim, with enthusiasm. I 
will go in for the shooting match. Jo can en- 
ter the running race and maybe get in the baseball 
game.” 

“Can you pitch ball?” asked Mr. Hoskins 
eagerly. “We need a good pitcher; that’s where 
Hughesville has always beaten us. They have got 


PLANS FOR THE FOURTH 


113 

a pitcher from Missouri and he throws a ball our 
boys can’t hit. Just swipe at it, and the ball runs 
away from them.” 

“ I know,” I said ; “ that’s a curve, they are hard 
to hit.” 

Jo is all all right when it comes to pitching, Mr. 
Hoskins,” said Tom, “ he has got a few curves him- 
self and pitched for our team at school for two 
years.” 

“ Gee ! that will be fine, if we can surprise those 
Hughesville fellows,” said Will Hoskins, this 
Fourth of July. Last year they rung in that new 
fellow on us and beat us bad and their heads are 
swelled.” 

“ What was the score ? ” I asked, with interest. 

Fifteen to two,” he answered ; it was a bad 
lickin’.” 

I looked at Tom, but said nothing. 

I have got to go to town soon,” said Mr. Hos- 
kins, “and I will try and fix it with the captain of 
our team to give you a chance.” 

“ Better put me in for sub,” I said, “ as I am a 
stranger, and if the regular pitcher is knocked out, 
then I can go in the box.” 

“ All right, we’ll see how best to arrange it,” 
said Mr. Hoskins. 

“ You boys must be sleepy,” said Mrs. Hoskins, 
“ and ril fix up your room for you, but I am afraid 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


1 14 

one of you will have to sleep on the lounge in the 
parlor.’^ 

“ Never mind,”- Mrs. Hoskins,” said Tom, we 
are not going to give you any trouble ; we have not 
slept in a house for so long that it would not seem 
natural.” 

But it is storming, so that it wont’s be very com- 
fortable outside,” objected Mrs. Hoskins. 

“ I tell you what,” said Jim, if you don’t mind 
we can sleep in the barn on the hay. That would 
suit us fine.” 

So it was agreed and taking our blankets and a 
lantern we soon made our beds in the mow and 
found it mighty comfortable. We could not go to 
sleep right away for thinking over that attack of 
the Indians on the defenseless family. 

‘‘ I tell you what, boys,” said Jim. “ I am' going 
to keep on the lookout for those children when we 
get into Colorado. I have a kind of feeling that 
we may run across them, because these people are 
too kind and good to lose their children that way.” 

I guess that they would rather they were dead,” 
I said, if we even get a chance to rescue them 
we will take it even if we run a risk of being skinned 
alive.” 

“ That’s right,” said Tom, and then we turned 
over and went to sleep with the rain beating mus- 
ically on the shingles over our heads. 


PLANS FOR THE FOURTH 115 

We woke up early the next morning and the 
sun was shining in dusky rays through cracks and 
crevices into the barn and when we first opened 
our eyes we did not know where we were. 

My, but it is a fine day,’’ I said ; “ you feed the 
horses, Jim, and I will help with the milking,” for 
the latter was one of my few accomplishments. 

Mr. Hoskins and Will came out with the shining 
tin milk pails in their hands. 

How did you boys make out to sleep ? ” he 
asked. 

“ Fine,” replied Tom, “ but I guess we look like 
sure enough hay seeds.” 

You have got them in your hair a plenty,” 
laughed Will ; better go in, breakfast will be ready 
soon.” 

We are going to help do the chores,” I skid ; 

Jim and Tom can look after the horses and I will 
help you milk.” 

“ Can you milk ? ” said Mr. Hoskins, surprised, 
‘‘ I thought you were town boys.” 

“ We are,” I replied, “ but we have lived on a 
farm. Father thought it was good for us.” 

Your father is a sensible man,” he said, you 
are welcome to try your hand at the milking, be- 
cause I don’t mind a vacation from that.” 

So I took the pail and went to the cow shed with 
Will. There were four fine fat cows in the stan- 


ii6 THE FRONTIER BOYS 

chions. Two red Durhams, a Jersey and a black 
and white Holstein. 

“ Take your choice,” said Will. I hesitated 
for a second, weighing the matter, because I knew 
that he would try and beat me. “ I’ll try the Jer- 
sey and the Holstein,” I said. 

He gave me a three-legged stool and I began 
operations with the Holstein. Will was busily 
working on the first Durham and the milk was beat- 
ing a tatoo on the bottom of the pail and then be- 
gan to foam up. I held my own with him at first, 
but the Holstein was rather a hard milker, though 
not slow, and gave a good quantity. I had counted 
on that, but I knew that she would be gentler than 
the Reds. 

Will finished his first cow and was well on the 
second when I began to milk the Jersey. Strong as 
I was, the milking called in play muscles that are 
not used often, and it was a relief to tackle the 
Jersey, because her teats were short and I could 
strip, thus resting my hands. Will was dashing 
along with both hands, but I was getting along fast 
myself, and just as he got up with a flourish I had 
finished. 

“ Pretty good work,” he grinned, ‘‘ I thought I 
was going to beat you.” 

“ You nearly did, too,” was my reply, but the 
Jersey was easy.” 


PLANS FOR THE FOURTH 


117 

s time for breakfast,” he said, ‘‘ and I guess 
you are hungry.” 

There was no denying it, I was. It was a pretty 
good breakfast, built on the old fashioned American 
plan, fried potatoes, griddle cakes, sausages and 
coffee. 

“ Did you boys get a good night’s rest ? ” asked 
Mrs. Hoskins. 

“ Yes, ma’am, we certainly did,” I replied. “ We 
did not know a thing until morning.” 


CHAPTER XV 

WE GO IN TRAINING 

After breakfast we went out to practice up for 
the Fourth of July. We did not have much time to 
get ready in. But then, we were in pretty good 
shape; as for running, anybody who had seen us 
chasing after the runaway team across the plains 
would have thought we were hard to beat. 

‘‘Have you got a baseball. Will?’’ I asked. 

“ Sure,” he said, “ I’ll go in and get it.” 

“We will get things ready while he is gone,” 
proposed Jim. 

We put a stone down for a base, or rather home 
plate. Will took his place ready to wallop them as 
they came over. Jim was the back stop. While 
warming up, I sent in a few straight ones and one 
of them Will knocked over the white picket fence 
into the grass road. He was evidently much 
pleased with himself, but did not think much of my 
skill. 

“ Here goes for a home run,” he said, waving his 
bat with great vigor, and Jim gave me the wink. 

“ You certainly are a heavy hitter, Will,” I said, 

ii8 


WE GO IN TRAINING 


119 

“ see what you can do with this/’ and I put a slow 
drop over. He whaled away at it and missed by 
about a foot. He seemed a little surprised, but not 
discouraged, as he poised for another hit. 

“Here goes,” he said, “that swallow up there 
had better look out.” 

Then the ball came straight to the plate, appar- 
ently, and as he whaled away, it curved out and he 
missed it again. 

“ Two strikes,” counted Jim, and he motioned for 
a high in-shoot. Will dodged back in considerable 
alarm. 

“ Three strikes and out,” sung out Jim. 

“ My goodness, how do you make the ball jump 
that way ? ” he asked, in great interest. 

“ It’s a new scheme that the pitchers in the east 
are just learning to work,” I said, and I tried to 
show him how to throw an out-curve, but he could 
not make it go at all. 

“ Needs some practice to get the lay of that,” 
suggested Tom. 

Jim took his place at the home plate because he 
was hungry for a hit and Will got behind several 
paces to catch the ball on the bound. I had to ex- 
tend myself, because Jim was an old hand at the 
game, and knew all my tricks. He missed the firsts 
which was an out, but the next was a drop and he 
slammed it to the fence. But the next time, as I 


I£0 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


was warming up, I struck him out in spite of his 
best efforts. Will was much impressed by seeing 
the curves. 

“ Gee ! ” he exclaimed, but you will surprise 
those fellows from Hughesville, and we are sure to 
beat them.’’ 

After I had pitched for half an hour, I thought 
that it was enough for one day, as I did not want 
to get lame. 

Now,” said Jim, “ the next thing will be a 
shooting match. What can we use for a target? 
It has to be pretty big.” 

“ There’s an old door,” said Will, “ how will that 
do?” 

“ First rate,” said Jim, “ and if you had some 
white paint we could fix a bull’s eye.” 

“ There’s some whitewash in the barn.” 

‘'That will be all right,” said Jim, and in a 
short time we had it fixed up. 

“ That’s first class,” cried Will. 

“ Now,” said Jim, “ where shall we put it up, 
because we must be careful, as we don’t want to 
kill any of the stock.” 

“ I know a good place,” said Will, “ in the lower 
pasture.” 

We went down there and it certainly was safe 
enough for there did not appear to be anything 
within a hundred miles. 


WE GO m TRAINING 


I2T 


“ That tree is the best place for the target,” said 
Jim. 

He and Will set it up against the tree and Jim 
paced off 400 yards. I hid myself in a gully nearby 
and the shooting began. 

Jim’s first shot went a little high and to one side, 
and I indicated the place where it was by flourish- 
ing my hat and putting it over the bullet hole. His 
second shot was good, being in the white circle, 
about six inches from the center. Out of ten shots, 
eight were in the circle and the other two close to 
it. 

Jim was no slouch with the rifle. Will did only 
fair, as he was used to a shotgun. Just as Tim 
and I and Will were getting a close range view of 
the target, a big jack rabbit came rubber-legging it 
across the prairie, about two hundred yards off. I 
got the first shot and knocked the dust up ahead of 
him. He swerved toward the right. Jim then 
drew a bead and fired and Mr. Jack turned two 
summersaults and then lay still. 

“ That was a mighty good shot,” exclaimed 
Will. 

“ There was a lot of luck in it,” said Jim. “ I 
couldn’t do that every day.” 

As for my record at the target, the least said the 
better. But I know that once I knocked some cot- 
tonwood leaves off above the target, but I could 


122 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


really do better at a live object, because in my in- 
terest I forgot to be nervous. 

The next thing was to do a little sprinting, so 
we got the tape measure and measured off first a 
hundred yards and then a quarter of a mile. Jim 
held the watch, and Will paced me the first two 
hundred in the quarter and I found I could hold my 
speed throughout. 

“ My, but you are fast,’’ he exclaimed. 

It looks to me you are pretty good yourself,” 
I replied. 

‘‘ I got second in the hundred yards last year,” 
he said. 

I thought to myself that we would stand a pretty 
good chance, but of course, being outsiders, we 
would naturally get the worst of it. 

And they were bound to be hostile to us as being 
tenderfeet from the East. This ended the exer- 
cises for the day as far as the athletics went. 

In the afternoon Tom and Jim tinkered around 
and I took the shotgun for company and started off 
across the country. I often did this, going alone, 
for neither Tom or Jim cared to walk except for 
some definite purpose. But I really enjoyed it, for 
once in a while I would run across something of 
interest. 

It was a beautiful afternoon and I went off in 
high spirits even if I was going alone. After I left 


WE GO IN TRAINING 


123 


the farm I went down the valley, leaving the town 
to my left about a mile. At first I thought I would 
go in and buy some little thing; candy or chewing 
gum, but being somewhat bashful, I did not know 
what the citizens might think if they saw an armed 
tenderfoot, walking along the main street, so I de- 
cided to steer clear of the town. As I swung on 
my way down the valley, I kept my eyes on the 
ground, looking for specimens of some sort or 
discription. 

Suddenly something caught my eye. It seemed 
like a small stone, peculiarly shaped. I stopped 
and picked it up. Then I saw it was an Indian 
arrow-head. It was of red flint and showed the 
marks where it had been cut. It was almost per- 
fect, except a little bit of the point was broken off. 
I was greatly pleased and I thought, here is some- 
thing of interest to show the boys, as they often 
joshed me about these excursions of mine. 

I now watched carefully every step, hoping to 
run across some more, and my search was rewarded 
for I found another of dark stone, not so pretty 
as the first, but broader and more perfect. In fact, 
it was quite perfect, and I found still another a few 
feet further on and this completed my collection for 
the day. This last arrow was of a black stone. I 
can’t tell you how I valued these and it made me 
realize the nearness of the savage West more clearly 


124 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


than I had before and what lay before us. I may 
say that I have since had the pink arrow-head 
mounted so that I could use it for a watch charm. 

It was now getting towards evening and I was 
beginning to think of returning to the farm, when 
I noticed ahead of me a house, standing alone, down 
in the valley, with a guard of trees around it. 
What it was that impelled me to go down there I do 
not know, but go I did. There was some interest 
or fascination. There was not a sign of life about 
the place. And I soon saw that it was a deserted 
house. 

It was two stories and had once been painted 
white, and now was badly weathered. The bricks 
had fallen from the two outside chimneys, built at 
either end onto the roof with its curled-up shingles 
and some were on the ground. One thing I 
thought strange, was that none of the windows 
were broken. The door was an ordinary wooden 
one and unpainted and across the division between 
the upper panels was drawn four black lines. 

As I went up a path now overgrown, I saw some 
animal, dog or coyote, or whatever it was, slink 
from under the house and disappear. Somehow 
it made me shiver, it was so gaunt and ghostly. I 
felt like turning back then and there. But I went 
up the rickety steps, curious to see what was in the 
silent house. As I put my hand on the knob to 


WE GO IN TRAINING 


125 


turn it I heard a sound in the house like a falling 
body and then not a groan or cry, just a whisper. 
I did not open the door and left abruptly. Dusk 
seemed to have fallen suddenly and, looking back, 
I saw the house standing gloomily alone. In the 
West, back of it, the sun had sunk in a black mass 
of ominous clouds, and ail the windows of the house 
seemed to stare at me like dead eyes. 


CHAPTER XVI 


A STRANGE STORY 

I WALKED briskly back over the plains and it was 
cheerful to see the lights shining from the windows 
of the cottage. 

Well, Jo,’' exclaimed Jim, as I came in, we 
were beginning to think that you were lost, strayed 
or stolen ; where have you been ? ” 

Just prospecting,” I said. 

“ I bet you didn’t find anything, I know your 
style of prospecting, mooning around,” said Tom, 
and wearing out shoe leather.” 

“ You are a wise guy, Tom,” I retorted, “ but I 
did pick up these.” and I held the three arrow 
heads in my hand under the light of the lamp. 

They all crowded around me to get a look at the 
specimens. 

'' Good for you, Jo,” said Mr. Hoskins, heartily 
slapping me on the back, ‘‘ where did you get 
them?” 

About a mile from here, on the other side of the 
wood.” 

That’s the part of an old battlefield,” said the 
126 


'A STRANGE STORY 


127 


farmer, “but I thought most of them had been 
picked up by this time. Let’s see that pink flint.” 

“ It’s a pity that the tip is broken,” said Will, “ it’s 
certainly a beaut.” 

“ I’m going to keep this one and send the other 
two home to father. He will be interested,” I 
said. 

“ Won’t it frighten your mother and make her 
think of the Indians?” said poor Mrs. Hoskins. 

“ No, ma’am,” replied Jim, “ we never write any 
of our adventures that would scare her and as we 
are well, she thinks it is all right.” 

“ You are a robust-looking lot,” said Mr. Hos- 
kins, “ and if you feel you can eat a little something 
we will go in to supper.” 

As we sat down Jim was moved to apologize 
to Mrs. Hoskins in regard to our appetites. 

“ I love to see you boys eat, it would hurt my 
feelings if you didn’t. I know that cooking your 
own food is hard work for you boys.” 

“ It does get kind of tiresome,” said Tom, who 
was the chef of our party. “ Jo and Jim certainly 
eat an awful lot when we are traveling.” 

“ Your appetite ain’t so delicate, either, Tom,” I 
said. 

“ Did you see anything besides specimens ? ” in- 
quired Jim; “a jack rabbit or an antelope when 
you were strolling around?”- 


128 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


Yes, I saw a house,” I said. 

“ Gee ! ” exclaimed Tom, who was more or less 
sarcastic at tim.es, “ it must have frightened you, 
did you run ? ” 

“ That’s exactly what I did,” I said, “ do you 
happen to know anything about a deserted house, 
Mr. Hoskins?” I continued, “that’s about three 
miles south of here in the valley. It has a few old 
trees around it.” 

“ Why, that’s the Haunted House,” put in Will, 
He was evidently proud that his section had one. 

“ It certainly looks it,” I said. 

“ Why, you didn’t go in ? ” asked Mrs. Hoskins 
in mild alarm, “ nobody around here dares to.” 

“ No, ma’am, I didn’t. I went up to the door 
and put my hand on the knob, then I heard som.e- 
thing or somebody in the house fall, and there was 
a sound of whispering; if they had yelled it would 
not have been so bad.” 

“ Shucks,” said Tom, “ that’s Jo’s imagination. 
He is always seeing things or hearing them. I 
guess it was the wind banging a shutter, then 
whistling through the key hole, that’s all. I don’t 
believe in ghosts or haunted houses.” 

“ But there wasn’t any wind,” I protested, “ nor 
shutters to the windows and the door didn’t have 
a key hole. I guess it was fastened on the inside. 
What have you got to say to that ? ” 


A STRANGE STORY 


129 


** I don’t care, I wouldn’t be afraid to sleep there 
to-night,” declared Tom, stoutly. 

“ Is that so ? ” I said, nettled that my haunted 
house should be taken so lightly and as if I was 
afraid of nothing. “ I tell you what we will do ; 
we will walk over there to-night and take a look at 
it and I bet five dollars you will be scared before 
you get through.” 

Tom was somewhat surprised, but he did not 
flinch. 

“ Certainly I’ll go,” he said. 

Tm in on this, too,” said Jim, “you can’t lose 
me by talking about haunted houses.” 

“ Hold on there, boys,” said Mr. Hoskins, who 
had been listening quietly to our discussion, “ that 
hou=e has something of a history and I would not 
care about going alone there myself at night, though 
I am not superstitious.” 

We looked at him, fascinated and intensely inter- 
ested. 

“Tell us about the house, Mr. Hoskins,” we 
asked in chorus. 

“ Well, there are different stories as there always 
is about such places. One thing is certain, there 
is something wrong about it. Respectable people 
have tried to live in it, but they couldn’t stay, or 
rather wouldn’t.” 

“ The last family were there a week or two and 


130 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


that satisfied them. They actually saw the ghosts 
of a man and woman. The man was fair, but had 
an evil face and the woman dark, beautiful, and 
they said almost human, as she appealed to them 
to save her with arms outstretched, but the man 
looked at her and she moaned and seemed to fade 
away. Then at night curious things used to hap- 
pen. The clothes would be twitched off their bed 
and they could hear voices whispering and then 
something fall, just as Jo said.” 

“ What did I tell you,” I said, looking at Tom in 
triumph, just one of my dreams, I suppose.” 

“ It’s impolite to interrupt,” he said. Tom had 
the trick of controversy, and he was hard to corner. 

“That’s all right, Jo,” said Mr. Hoskins. 
“Tom’s simply joshing; now, as a matter of fact, 
there was a couple lived there alone a good many 
years ago. Where they came from no one knew. 
The man and woman were something like those 
people described. They were not looking for com- 
pany, and they had money. They wanted to be let 
alone, and they certainly were. Not even the In- 
dians would disturb them. I suppose there was 
some mystery back of it all. Anyway, they disap- 
peared one night, absolutely, and nothing was ever 
seen of them. No more than if the earth had 
opened and swallowed them up. Some sort of an 


A STRANGE STORY 131 

animal stays around there, but nobody has ever got 
a good look at him.” 

‘‘ Yes, I saw him,” I exclaimed, and he slunk 
off before I got a look at him.” 

Exactly,” and Mr. Hoskins resumed his narra- 
tive. After those people had disappeared, three 
renegade half-breeds camped in the house. One 
night, in a fight over a game of cards, one of 
them was killed and the people around here would 
not have cared if all three of them had been shot. 
It was believed that they were concerned in rob- 
beries and other crimes. Since then screams and 
yells, they say, have been heard there late at night. 
So you see, it naturally has a bad reputation.” 

I should say so,” said Jim, what do you think 
about it now, Tom? Do you feel like making a 
call on the ghosts ? ” 

Of course,” he replied, ” I said I would, and 
I will.” 

We will go along and see the fun, won’t we, 
Jo? ” said Jim. 

Sure,” I replied. ‘‘ I would not miss this trip.” 

“Say, Pa, can’t I go?” inquired Will. “I. will 
carry the lantern for the boys.” 

“ Why, son,” said Mrs. Hoskins, “ you don’t want 
to go to such a frightful place, and then it is going 
to storm. I’m afraid.’* 


132 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ Oh, pshaw, Ma ! it will be all right if Tm with 
the boys, and I never get to go anywhere/’ 

That’s so, Mother,” said Mr. Hoskins, “ let the 
boy go, no harm will come to him, even if he does 
get scared.” 

“ Very well, William,” she replied, “ it will be 
all right if you say so, and it’s true the boy does have 
a lonely time with just us old folks around.” 

“ You don’t think you will get lost, do you, boys? 
It’s pitch dark and on the prairie at night it’s pretty 
hard to tell where you are sometimes,” said Mr. 
Hoskins. 

Will can help us when it comes to finding the 
trail,” said Tom. 

I can do that,” he said, “ because I have hunted 
all over the country and I know it pretty well.” 

I will put the two big lamps in the parlor win- 
dow, so that you will have something to guide you.” 
said Mr. Hoskins. 

“ That will be just the thing,” said Tom. 

It did not take us long to make our preparations 
after supper. It was warm and muggy, so that we 
did not have to put on our coats, for even if it did 
rain, the less we had on the better. 

So we wore our old gray campaign hats, flannel 
shirts of the same color, and pants to match. We 
also took our rifles, at least Tom and Jim did. 

“ I am not going to bother with a gun,” I said. 


A STRANGE STORY 


133 


“ all I want is my bowie knife/’ This I strapped 
around my waist in its leather sheath. Will got the 
lantern. 

“ We don’t need to light it yet,” I said, be- 
cause the first part of the way will be easy.” 

Then saying goodbye, we started out into the 
night. It certainly was dark, clouds, heavy and 
black, all over the sky and in the north there was 
continual flashes of sheet lightning, perfectly silent. 

We followed along the grass road. Tom and 
I in one wheel track, Jim and Will in the other. 
We swung along in good style, the dog Ben at our 
heels. He would come along. 

“ It’s awful dark. I hope we won’t miss it,” I 
said. “Ah, here’s the main road.” We took our 
bearings from it and plunged into the darkness 
again. 

“ Hello, what’s that just ahead? Sic ’em Ben; 
but he would not stir. 

“ Oh, you didn’t see anything,” said Tom, “ I 
wish you would quit your false alarms, Jo.” 

He was irritable and I judged he was getting nerv- 
ous. 

“ I did see something, it was kind of light col- 
ored and looked like a dog.” 

Just them came a prolonged howl to our left, long 
drawn out like a moan. 

“ Oh shut up, you darn old coyote,” said Jim, 


134 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


and he brought the gun to his shoulder and fired 
in the direction of the noise. 

The fire leaped from the muzzle of the rifle and 
in the silence it seemed to roar. Not another 
whimper came from that coyote. 

“ That was a good shot/’ laughed Jim, but we 
can’t stop to get him now.” 

Then we took up the trail again. 

“ I guess we must have missed it,” said Tom. 

“ We ought to be pretty close to it by this time,” 
I replied. “ Hello, what is that over there, it looks 
like a clump of trees.” 

“ I thought I saw a light just them,” said Jim. 
We stopped and looked intently ahead. 



“I THOUGHT I SAW A LIGHT JUST THEN.” 
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CHAPTER XVII 

THE HOUSE AMONG THE TREES 

It was the “ House Among the Trees.’* As far 
as the light was concerned we could not guess what 
made it at first. 

There must be somebody in that house/' I de- 
clared. 

“ That's nonsense," said Tom, “ I know now what 
the light was. It was the reflection of the lightning 
in the window panes." 

This seemed plausible enough. 

“We might as well light the lantern now," said 
Will, “ and then we can see where we are going." 

He struck a match and held it in the cup of his 
hand, and the wind blew it out. Then we gathered 
close around him, protecting the light with our 
coats. Finally we got the lantern lit. As I was 
the one who was supposed to be the best acquainted 
with the place, the honor of leading the procession 
was given to me. So I took the lantern and started 
up the path to the house. I had not gone three 
steps before the wind blew the lantern out. 

135 


136 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


That’s funny,” said Will, I have taken that 
lantern out in a blizzard and it never blew out.” 

There is no use bothering with it,” I said. 

We will light it when we get into the house,” 
suggested Jim. 

The wind was swaying the branches of the cot- 
tonwoods over our heads in the darkness. As I 
came near the house I stopped so quickly that Jim, 
who was following close behind me, bumped into 
me, much to his disgust, which he did not fail to ex- 
press. 

What’s that under the house ? ” I exclaimed. 
“ There, you can see its eyes gleaming. I bet it’s 
the same thing I saw slinking otf this afternoon.” 

Whatever it was, the thing had got up and was 
coming slowly toward us, then it moved sideways, 
but kept its burning eyes on us. 

Go for him Ben, eat him up,” commanded Tom. 

But he would not move, but crept closer to our 
heels, his hair bristling, and growling low. Then 
the thing seemed to disappear, loping away in the 
night. 

I never saw a dog or coyote strike that gait in 
my life,” said Will. 

We now stepped upon the porch and the boards 
sounded hollow under our feet, you would have 
thought a whole regiment was there, instead of four 
boys. The windows were glaring at us and the 


THE HOUSE AMONG THE TREES 


^Z7 

house seemed as hollow as a shell. Then I saw a 
light. I was sure of it this time and the rest of the 
boys saw it too. 

“ I am going in this house,” declared Tom, in a 
loud voice. “ I ain’t afraid of any of you things 
in there, you can bet on that.” 

No sound or word or whisper came in reply. He 
took hold of the knob of the door and turned and 
twisted it. 

It must be locked,” he said, and he threw his 
weight against it. Suddenly it opened and Tom 
fell in on the floor, the rest of us following. The 
wind through the house stirred everything loose. 

“ Shut the door,” said Tom, and then we will 
light the lantern.” Jim slammed it shut and the 
house seemed filled with that strange silence. 

Listen ! ” I exclaimed, it’s that sound again.” 

In spite of ourselves we waited in awed silence. 
Then there was the sound as of a body falling in a 
room upstairs, followed by that strange whispering, 
“ Sh-sh-sh,” in a woman’s voice, then a man’s mur- 
muring low intense, but we could not make out any 
single word, and the place of the whispering changed 
to the next room to where we were. 

If they would only speak out, but that low con- 
tinuous sound as over some terrible deed that re- 
quired secrecy, made our blood curdle. We lighted 
the lantern and could see that the room where we 


138 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


were was quite empty, except for a box by the 
further window. On it was a few inches of greasy 
candle and upon the floor was the skirt of a 
woman’s dress, utterly worn and dirty, but it looked 
to me as if it had been of good material, quite dif- 
ferent from the calico of Kansas. In the other 
room was a rusty sheetiron stove. As we entered 
an ugly gray rat ran across the floor and into some 
rubbish in one corner. 

‘‘If anybody sees this lantern moving around in 
here, they sure will think this house is haunted,” 
said Jim. 

“ You don’t hear any more of that whispering,” 
remarked Tom, “ when we have the lantern lit. 
There’s nothing here but that hole in the floor.” 

“ I bet that’s where they threw things,” I said. 

“Who?” inquired Tom beligerently, because he 
did not like my method of conjuring things up. 

“Why, those half breeds,” I said, “maybe that’s 
where they buried — ” 

“ O shut up,” said Tom, “ don’t get started 
thinking things. Let’s go up-stairs, there isn’t any- 
thing down here.” 

“ Go ahead,” said Jim. 

We went into the other room and started up the 
narrow stairs, that had no railing on the outside. 
Jim was carrying the lantern. About half way up 


THE HOUSE AMONG THE TREES 


J39 


it went out, with no apparent reason, for there was 
neither breeze nor draft, though outside swept and 
roared the wind, beating the trees, while in the 
house there was that peculiar silence. 

Let’s go down,” I said. 

I was next in line behind Jim, and I started to 
turn around. 

‘‘ You go on,” ordered Tom, no backing out 
now, and you will shove us off.” 

Goodness ! What is that ? ” I exclaimed, thor- 
oughly frightened, as I clung to Jim, to keep from 
falling to the floor. I could feel him trembling. 
Something black and low had rushed between us 
and the wall going upstairs. 

“ It’s that dog of ours,” said Jim. 

Just as he spoke Ben came tearing down the 
stairs. 

‘‘ He’s gone crazy, clear plumb crazy. I can 
see the foam on his mouth,” said Tom. 

There was something frightful in having our 
faithful old friend suddenly transformed into a 
wild animal. 

“ You come here,” commanded Tom, ‘‘ you fool 
dog, come here or I’ll kill you.” 

Something in his voice brought Ben cowering to 
his heels. We went on cautiously through the 
darkness, going down the narrow hall, then into 


140 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


the south room. A flash of lightning revealed its 
bareness, but in the centre there lay a dark object 
like a huddled human form. 

“ What is that ? queried Will, in a shaking 
voice. 

Tom had the nerve to go up to it and stir the 
bundle with his foot. 

“ It’s nothing but some old clothes,” he promptly 
reported. 

Then it stirred, as if alive, and two dark objects 
scurried across the floor, one of them struck me 
squarely on the heel, almost throwing me off my 
balance. It was two big rats, and Ben, instead of 
grabbing them, began to howl and of all dismal 
and unearthly sounds, I never heard the equal as 
they echoed through the vacant house. Tom was 
so exasperated that he gave him a kick. 

I’ll give you something to howl for,” he said. 

Let’s finish this business up,” said Jim. 

We went down the narrow hall into the last room, 
the one on the north. It was empty except for a 
double bed in one corner, with a cheap wooden 
'frame without mattress or slats. 

** I guess that’s about all,” said Tom. 

Then we heard what sounded like someone 
knocking on the door downstairs. 

‘‘ Come in,” said Tom, in a voice that was not 
like his at all, it sounded strangely different. 


THE HOUSE AMONG THE TREES 


141 

Sh-sh-sh,” came a whisper from the dark and 
furtherest corner of the room, then the low mur- 
mur of what seemed like a man’s voice, and then 
the darkness seemed to separate and something 
was forming, coming to life there before our 
very eyes. 

We were nothing but boys after all, and we 
rushed from the room, panic stricken. Missing the 
stairs, we banged into the wall, that whisper follow- 
ing us. '' Sh-sh-sh.” 

At last in our gropings in the pitch dark we 
found the stairs and went down the steps helter- 
skelter. It was a wonder we did not break our 
necks. Then a body fell upstairs. It was enough, 
but we did not escape so easily. For as we made 
for the front door, crash, bang, came something — 
some terrible menace against the back door. It 
seemed to bend inwards and as we flung the other 
door open, crash, it came into the middle of the 
room, — the Gray Beast, — its eyes glaring and every 
hair erect. 

I was the last and as I slammed the door just in 
time, I felt the Beast surge against it. Jumping 
off the porch and clearing the steps at one bound, 
I ran down the path between the trees, where the 
boys were waiting for me in the open. We turned 
and saw the Beast glaring at us from the porch. 

Jim, before we could stop him, pulled up his rifle 


142 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


and fired. We could see the white flash of the 
Beast’s teeth, as he jumped off the porch into the 
path between the trees. There he stood glaring and 
bristling at us in a perfect fury. Jim was just 
going to fire again when Tom and I grabbed him. 

“ Come on, you idiot,” said Tom. “ We don’t 
want any of his game,” and we dragged the protest- 
ing Jim away. 

He was firmly convinced that he could do any- 
thing with his rifle and would have taken a shot 
at the old Devil himself if he had come in range. 

“ He won’t follow us off his own ground if we 
leave him alone,” I said. 

In this I was right. As we hurried back in the 
face of a rapidly rising storm, we had little to say 
until we struck the grass road and saw the wel- 
come lights of the farm house in the window, then 
our speech loosened. 

No more haunted houses for me,” remarked 
Tom. “ Once is enough. How do you make it 
out Jo? I guess you have some idea. You gener- 
ally have.” 

“ I figure this way, you know that man and 
woman Mr. Hoskins told us about ? ” 

“ Yes,” said the chorus. 

They weren’t Americans,” I continued, but 
they came over to this country to get away from 
something they were afraid of, and they took the 


THE HOUSE AMONG THE TREES 


143 


loneliest place they could find. Still they were 
haunted by their crime.” 

“ What crime? ” asked Jim. 

“ Maybe they had killed somebody, and they whis- 
pered when they heard him come and knock on the 
door, then he came in and they hit him on the head. 
He fell. That’s what made the noise and the thing 
kept haunting them until they could not stand it 
any longer.” 

‘‘ How about that animal, was he real ? ” asked 
Tom. “ Because,” he continued, the people we 
heard whispering were not.” 

I hesitated a moment, because I felt kind of 
stuck up to have Tom asking me, since he gen- 
erally had the floor himself. So I kept them in 
suspense. 

Yes,” I said finally, I think he was real. It 
sure seemed so when he struck the door when I was 
holding it. Looked to me to be a big hound, may- 
be a boar hound, that belonged to that man and 
woman.” 

“ When they disappeared he stayed around there 
because he had no other place to go and he 
was faithful to the place where his owners had 
lived.” 

That may all be so,” Jim said, “ but I bet the 
wind had a lot to do with the noises we heard in the 


house.” 


144 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ Maybe it had something to do, but not alV^ I 
replied. 

Well,” resumed Jim, '' I would rather meet a 
wild man than one of those big rats, if cornered.” 

You are right about that,” said Tom, they are 
terrible fighters.” 

‘‘ Anyhow,” continued Jim, if you fellows had 
given me another chance with my rifle I would have 
nailed that dog.” 

Here the discussion ended for we had arrived at 
the house and received a warm welcome. The folks 
were beginning to be worried because it was getting 
so late. While we ate gingerbread and dough- 
nuts, which Mrs. Hoskins had brought out from the 
pantry, we went over our evening’s adventures. 

Well, boys, I guess you won’t find anything 
more exciting in the way of ghosts when you reach 
the Rockies,” said Mr. Hoskins. ‘‘ Good night.” 

We were inclined to agree with him then for we 
could not forsee what was to happen to us on a cer- 
tain night in Wall Creek Canon, Colorado. But 
that is another story. 

That night Tom and I distinguished ourselves by 
having the nightmare and I doubt if Will Hoskins 
got any sleep at all. But I wager you others fel- 
lows would have been just as bad, if you had gone 
through an experience like ours. 


CHAPTER XVIII 

A GAME OF HORSESHOES 


The next day was the third of July and in the 
'forenoon we rested up and took things easily, so that 
we would be in some sort of shape for the events 
of the morrow. 

In the afternoon we helped Mr. Hoskins and Will 
get in a bunch of hay from one of the lower 
meadows. 

^^You boys pitch hay like old timers,’^ he said. 
“ I wish you were here to help me get in my whole 
crop. We would make short work of it. But I 
suppose your mining interests in the West will re- 
quire your attention ? 

And there was a quizzical look in his eyes that 
made us feel that he did not take our prospecting 
very seriously. But we did not mind that because 
even our best friends in the East took the same 
view of our prospects. Likewise suggested various 
names for the new companies we were to form as : 
** The Three Kids Gold Mill and Mining Co.,” 

The Tom, Jim and Jo Silver Coin Co.” 

We would like to stay, Mr. Hoskins,” said Tom, 
145 


146 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ but if we strike a good thing out West we will let 
you in too.” 

“ This certainly is fun,” said Jim, as we trailed 
after the first load of hay, our pitchforks held in- 
dustriously over our shoulders. 

‘‘ It makes us forget all about that haunted house 
business last night,” I said, and indeed we had lit- 
tle time to think about anything, as Mr. Hoskins 
and Jim forked us the hay from the wagon with the 
desirable object of burying us from view and it 
kept Tom, Will and I hustling to mow the hay away. 

My, how it makes you sweat ! ” exclaimed Tom, 
as he wiped the hay dust from his face and neck 
with a red bandanna handkerchief, he had pur- 
chased in a small Missouri town. 

“ It will certainly take all the impurities out 
of your system; Tom,” I said. 

If it would sweat out some of your finnicky no- 
tions it would be a good thing,” he retorted. 

My, that water tastes good,” said Jim, as he put 
the contents of the tin dipper down his throat, 
Kansas has good water.” 

It did not take us long to get the three loads of 
hay into the barn, as there was considerable rivalry 
between Tom and I on one side and Jim and Will 
on the other, to see who would be the first to get 
their hay shocks into the wagon. 

I guess that Will and Jim would have got the de- 


A GAME OF HORSESHOES 


147 


cision, as Will had the experience and Jim the 
muscle, but we made them hustle because Tom and 
I were quick and wiry. As we got through an 
hour before chore time, due to our united industry, 
we put in the balance of the afternoon pitching 
horseshoes; here Tom and I were champions. 

“ Which one of you boys is the best at this 
game?” asked Mr. Hoskins, as he stopped on his 
way to the house, to watch our game. 

‘‘ Jo is,” was the verdict. 

“ He can beat you. Pa,” said Will. 

“I don’t know about -that,” said Mr. Hoskins, 

I’ll try my hand at it.” 

No sooner had he cast the first two shoes than I 
saw that he was a master hand at the game. His 
first throw cut the dirt against the stake, and his sec- 
ond throw was a leaner, that is it leaned against the 
pin, counting three, while a ringer was five. 

I managed with my first to knock the leaner 
away, but though my second shoe interlocked his 
first, he beat me the fraction of an inch. 

“ I am going to change shoes,” I said. 

“ All right, Jo,” he laughed, “ help yourself, 
there is a bunch of them there by the barn.” 

I sorted them over and picked out a pair of small 
heavy mule shoes, with sharp thick thumbs that 
v/ould hold fast to the ground and not slide. My 
game improved and I held him even. Our styles 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


148 

of throwing differed. Mr. Hoskins gave the shoe 
a straight pitch, while I used a twirling motion 
from the wrist. 

Here’s where I beat you, Jo,” he said. 

As I held the stake for the last round, I poised 
myself carefully, determined to win out for the 
honor of the East, which I represented, as against 
the West. My first shoe was a ringer. 

“ Fine work, Jo,” exclaimed Mr. Hoskins, en- 
thusiastically, “ but you want to look out that shoe 
points this way. I am liable to knock it back.” 

“ Don’t you let Pa scare you, Jo,” said Will, 
you beat him and you are the champion of the 
county.” 

I thought as much when I saw him make his first 
throw. My last shoe I aimed carefully to fall be- 
fore the stake, to protect my ringer. I made a 
pretty good shot of it. 

But Mr. Hoskins went me one better when his 
turn came, for his first shoe struck fairly, knocking 
my ringer back and his last was right on top of my 
second shoe. It was so close that it had to be 
measured, and Tom, with the aid of a yellow straw, 
decided that Mr. Hoskins’ shoe was the fraction of a 
hair nearer than mine. 

Will, who wanted to see his father beaten, also 
measured with another yellow straw and declared 
that I had won by the fraction of an inch. 


A GAME OF HORSESHOES 149 

“We’ll call it even, Jo,” said Mr. Hoskins 
heartily. 

“ No, no, that’s all right,” I said, “ you won, but 
I made you hustle.” 

“ You certainly did, my boy, and there is nobody 
in Marion county, Kansas, that could have done it 
better.” 

“ Supper’s all ready, Father,” called Mrs. Hos- 
kins, from the kitchen door. “You and the boys 
had better come in.” 

At supper we talked over the events of the next 
day, the glorious and welcome fourth. 

“ You boys had better turn in early and get a 
good night’s rest,” said Mr. Hoskins, “to-morrow 
will be a busy day for you.” 

We took the advice and were stowed away in the 
mow by eight o’clock and fell asleep to the tune of 
the horses chewing the corn from the cobs in the 
feed box. And the first thing we knew there was 
an explosion over our heads on the roof and the 
horses jumped back. 

“ Hello ! ” I said, sitting up, “ what’s the matter 
now ? ” 

“ It’s the glorious fourth. Hurrah,” yelled Jim, 
jumping on my neck, and we rolled down the hay 
together. 

Will came in laughing. 

“How’s that for a firecracker?” 


150 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ First rate,” I said, let’s have some more.” 
And hurrying outside we got busy celebrating. 

“ This is a going to be a fine day for the games, 
boys,” said Mr. Hoskins, coming out of the house. 

“ It’s going to be hot but that suits us to a T,” 
suggested Jim. 

“ Have all the fun you can boys, but keep the 
fire crackers away from the barn,” continued Mr. 
Hoskins. 

After breakfast the team of strong, well matched 
bays was hitched to the new farm wagon, and an 
extra spring seat was put in back and we drove 
off in high spirits for the neighboring town. 

As soon as we got on the main road we began to 
see a number of teams all going one way and the 
wagons filled with old folks and young. We passed 
a few and the occupants seemed more than ordi- 
narily interested in us, so we guessed that there 
had been some talk around the country in regard 
to the tenderfeet from the East, who were going 
to perform in the events of the day. 

In about an hour we arrived in the town and 
found the main street lined with wagons, buggies 
and other vehicles. Everybody seemed to know 
Mr. Hoskins and greeted him accordingly, and they 
also took a good look at the three strangers from 
the East and we were the objects of varied com- 
ments. Some of them we felt were not especially 


A GAME OF HORSESHOES 


151 

friendly, the boys laughed, and we heard some of 
their remarks. 

“ I guess we will show those tenderfeet some- 
thing,’’ said one. 

“ Indian Jo will beat that white-headed kid,” 
meaning me, “ all holler.” 

One of them fellows is a pitcher and he thinks 
he is going to show the team from Hughesville 
something. Why they will eat him alive. He 
ought to have a bottle.” 

Jim began to get rather hot under the collar. 

“We will show those Rubes something before 
we are done with them. Because we ain’t clodhop- 
pers,” he said. “ They think we are just kids, but 
we’ll fool them some.” 

“ How are you feeling, Jo?” asked Tom. 

“ Oh, I’m all right,” I said, and yet I was begin- 
ning to feel rather nervous, like a cat in a strange 
garret. Nor was I much encouraged when Mr. 
Hoskins introduced me to the captain of the “ River 
Bend Reds.” He was a big, strapping young fel- 
low, who played first base, and he made no bones of 
his disappointment in my size. His rough lack of 
cordiality further depressed my spirits. He and 
Mr. Hoskins had an earnest conversation apart, 
and I heard him say: 

“ Very well, Mr. Hoskins, you have helped us 
get the uniforms for the fellows and we want to 


152 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


please you. If Jere Smith, the pitcher, plays out, 
we will put this boy in and give him a chance, but 
between me and you Mr. Haskins, he don’t look very 
much.” 

So it was settled. 

''We’ll show ’em won’t we, Jo,” he said, clap- 
ping me on the shoulder and I determined to justify 
his confidence in me if it were possible. 


CHAPTER XIX 

THE FOURTH OF JULY 

About noon there was a big hurrah and excite- 
ment on the main street of River Bend, as two big 
wagons, drawn by four horses apiece and decorated 
with bunting, came into town with the famous 
Hughesville base ball team aboard. They carried 
several triumphant banners. 

The champions.” 

“ 15 to 2.” 

“We will do it again.” 

They were certainly a proud lot of bumpkins, and 
you would have thought they owned the town as 
they climbed out of the wagons and swaggered into 
“ The Grand Central Hotel.” Chiefly distinguished 
by a row of wooden arm chairs in which tilted back 
against the building, sat some of the principal 
citizens in their shirt sleeves. 

“ Come on, boys,” said Tom, “ let’s have a look 
at the animals.” 

So we sauntered into the main office of the 
“ Grand Central Hotel,” with its plain wooden floor 
153 


154 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


adorned with big brown crockery spittoons and the 
office part, a wooden counter enclosing one corner 
behind which stood the clerk, a young fellow in 
shirt sleeves, and a pen behind his ear. He ap- 
peared to be strictly business and was full of hus- 
tling importance. 

“Which is the pitcher, Will?” I asked, being 
anxious to size up my opponent of the afternoon. 

“ It’s that fellow with the red necktie and long 
black coat.” 

I took a good look at him. There was no doubt 
that he felt his importance as he swaggered around, 
the center of interest and admiration, spitting to- 
bacco with a great deal of accuracy. 

“ He is certainly a big, raw-boned fellow,” said 
Tom, “ and if he knows the game he will be dan- 
gerous.” 

“ He sends the ball over like a shot,” said Will, 
“ but he hasn’t as many tricks as Jo.” 

“ I bet if you lined a few at him right hard, he 
would go up in the air,” said Jim. 

“ Yes,” put in Tom, “ to get out of the way.” 

By this time the visitors were looking us over 
for they had learned somehow that I was one of the 
pitchers for the “ River Bend Reds.” 

After they had sized me up they began to guffaw 
and were not at all particular to hide their con- 
tempt for my size. 


THE FOURTH OF JULY 


155 


‘‘ What a runt,” said the big, raw-boned pitcher, 
as he spit expressively into a cuspidor. 

“If he would stay in Kansas for a while, and get 
corn fed he would be all right,” laughed the cap- 
tain, a heavy set, square shouldered ranchman, but 
good natured. 

“ If that’s what the River Bends have come to, 
I’m sorry for them,” said another. 

Jim began to warm up himself and he had a cool, 
stinging way with him when he got started, and it 
looked as if there might be a fight, when two men 
came out of the barroom and they changed the cur- 
rent of interest. 

“ Hello,” exclaimed Tom, “ if that isn’t those fel- 
lows we yanked out of the river.” They also recog- 
nized us at the same time. 

“ Hey, Bill,” said one to his partner, “ if there 
ain’t those three kids that got us out of the quick- 
sands.” And they came up to us and shook hands. 

“ Come on, boys, and have a drink,” said the one 
who had the bottle in the wagon. We shook our 
heads emphatically. 

“ That’s right boys,” said the bigger fellow of the 
two, “ you ought to have a better sense. Bill, than to 
ask those kids to drink.” 

Then he asked us about our team and how we 
captured them. 

The crowd was looking on at this reunion with 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


156 

great interest and began to get funny after their 
rough farmer fashion. As soon as the two men 
found out their situation they began to talk them- 
selves. 

“ I bet you ten dollars that the boy (meaning 
me), will beat you this afternoon,” said Jake, the 
man who recognized us first, addressing the big 
pitcher, who had been talking the loudest, waving 
a roll of bills under his nose. This did not suit 
the big fellow and he withdrew into the background, 
growling to himself. 

“ We’ll accommodate any of you gents,” put in 
Bill, “ if you want to bet.” But no one came for- 
ward. 

“ I reckon we had better be going,” I said to 
Tom, and we left after the two men had again in- 
sisted on shaking hands with us. 

Here’s wishin’ you good luck, kid,” Jake said, 
“ and I’d bet my last dollar on you. We’ll be on 
hand to help you win.” 

“ That’s so,” chimed in Bill, you look like a win- 
ner to me.” 

They might not be very creditable citizens, but 
I could not help feeling grateful to them, for I felt 
somewhat lonesome, with the River Benders and the 
other side both running me down and my disreput- 
able looking champions warmed my heart after all. 
It’s a good thing to have a booster sometimes. 


THE FOURTH OF JULY 


157 


I wonder where those fellows get their money/’ 
I said. 

'' I reckon they are gamblers/’ said Tom, “ they 
act like it.” 

“ Well, they look good to me,” I said. 

Don’t it make you feel shaky, Jo,” asked Will, 
‘‘ when you see those big, husky fellows ? ” 

“ No,” I said, “ if I felt my own side would back 
me up.” 

“ It’s this way, Will,” said Jim, “ the size don’t 
count in base ball, and I have seen Jo pitch against 
some professional teams up the state when they 
played the Hill School and came pretty near beating 
them, too.’' 

Will expressed his surprise. 

'' You see,” I explained, “ one of the fellows who 
pitched for a big team, lived in our town, and he 
took an interest in me and taught me a whole 
lot.” 

Who is that fellow leaning against the front of 
the postoffice?” asked Tom, he looks like an In- 
dian.” 

“ He is part Indian,” said Will, “ and he is the 
fastest runner in this county. He is in the races 
this afternoon and I don’t believe Jo can beat him, 
for he certainly can run.” 

I had my doubts too, as I looked at him. There 
was an admiring crowd around him. But he stood 


158 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


there perfectly stolid, only once did his black eyes 
shift in our direction and then he looked over the 
heads of the crowd in perfect indifference. 

“ My, tut he has got the build for a runner,” said 
Jim, admiringly. There was no mistake about it. 
Long and and lithe and he moved as gracefully and 
unconsciously as a sleek, wild animal. 

“ When do the races come, Will ? ” I asked. 

“ After the game,” he replied. 

“ That suits me,” I said, ‘‘ if I had to run first, 
I would be tired, but pitching won’t hurt my legs 
much, but I guess that fellow will beat me, he 
looks it.” 

“ You will have to hurry, that’s certain,” said 
Jim. 

And there was no doubt that he was correct. 

The first thing on the program was an oration, 
delivered from a wooden platform, built for the 
occasion and with a covering of red calico. The 
orator was the “ smart ” young lawyer of River 
Bend, who was in line for some political office. He 
scorched the British and lauded Washington and the 
Pilgrim Fathers, sawing the air with his right arm 
and his long coat waving in the breeze. He 
wound up his oration with a glowing tribute to the 
River Bend base ball team. 

“ Who will on this memorable 4th of July, conse- 
crated forevermore to Freedom, free us from the 


THE FOURTH OF JULY 


159 


insolence and tyranny of the hirelings of Hughes- 
ville/’ 

Then came prolonged cheering by the citizens of 
River Bend, and wild yells by the two ex-prospec- 
tors, who drew unfavorable attention to themselves 
by their enthusiasm. 

After this was over we sat in our wagon and ate 
our dinner, which Mrs. Hoskins had packed in a 
wicker basket, covered with a white table cloth, 
neatly folded. 

I guess we boys will always remember that par- 
ticular dinner, eaten on the edge of River Bend, 
with the free wind blowing over the prairies, the 
sunshine and the wonderful blue skies. Then there 
was the prospect of taking up our adventurous 
travels on the morrow and an afternoon of sport, 
ahead, so we attacked that dinner with a fine appe- 
tite. 

There was sliced roast chicken, sausages and 
ham, home made pickles, sweet potatoes, coffee 
made over an old fashioned campfire, then apple pie 
and pudding. 

With that dinner inside of me, I felt almost equal 
to shutting out the Hughesville team. After din- 
ner came the target shooting at the range of three 
hundred yards. There were ten contestants, count- 
ing Jim. Some of those Kansas men were fine 
shots and others were regular farmers at the game. 


i6o 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


The first man up made a good shot. Just within 
the circle of the bull’s-eye. The second was a young 
fellow with heavy cowhide boots and pants tucked 
into their tops and a biled shirt with a collar that 
gave him considerable discomfort. ^ He was nerv- 
ous, as he was somewhat of a beau and all the 
girls were looking at him. The gun swayed con- 
siderably as he aimed, and missed the target en- 
tirely. How the crowd yelled as he stepped back in 
confusion, which his high collar could not alto- 
gether conceal. 

** Here’s another,” cried the crowd, as Jim stepped 
forward and leveled his rifle at the target. 

‘‘ Look out, he might hit somebody,” yelled a 
fellow on horseback, and threw himself to one side 
of his horse as though afraid. Jim took his rifle 
down and took a look at the fellow, then grim and 
cool, he brought his rifle up again and fired almost 
instantly, hitting the edge of the bull’s-eye. 

“ Say, you fellow,” yelled Tom, in derision, ‘‘ How 
do you like that ? ” 

As the contest continued it narrowed down to 
three and Jim was one of the three. The other two 
shot like frontiersmen, as I have no doubt they 
were. Jim had to be satisfied with third place and 
prize, which chanced to be a shaving mug and there 
was lots of fun over that in which we all joined. 

‘‘You are all right, Johnny,” said our friends 


THE FOURTH OF JULY 


i6i 


from Sand River. “ Those old chaps know the 
game, but you made them hustle.” 

The next was the base ball game, and that was 
up to me. 

The ball field was on the outskirts of the town 
and there was a narrow path worn between the 
bases. All round the field were people in wagons, 
on horse back or standing. 

The River Bend team was already on the ground, 
and in a short time the Hughesville aggregation 
came through the crowd and onto the scene of con- 
flict. They were big husky fellows in their brown 
uniforms, and the River Bends in their red suits, 
looked a good deal smaller. 

After a little miscellaneous practice the game be- 
gan, while I sat quietly on the bench in my own 
uniform of gray, with H. H. in red letters on the 
chest. It seemed mighty good to have the old suit 
on again, that I had worn in many a hard fought 
contest and it gave me confidence to have it on. 
The folks at home had guyed me because I would 
bring it along, but I was obstinate about it. 

I sat on the bench leaning forward, with my 
arms on my knees, watching the beginning of the 
game, with keen interest. 

The Browns were at the bat, and the big, square- 
shouldered captain led off. He was too eager and 
missed the first ball by a foot, but the next time 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


162 

he swiped the ball and it went between the center- 
fielder’s legs and the captain brought up on third 
base, blown but triumphant, with his cap gripped 
in his hand, and how the people from Hughesville 
and his team-mates did yell, and before that inning 
was over the enemy had made four runs. 

I saw clear enough that the home pitcher could 
not last, he was nervous and wild. In their half 
the locals only made one run. 

The Hughesville pitcher had plenty of speed and 
fine control. 

I thought the captain would put me in for the 
next inning, but he did not, and the first man up, 
who was the captain, landed on the ball and it sailed 
over the leftfielder’s head and into a wagon, where 
an old lady was sitting in a rocking chair, and you 
would have laughed to have seen her standing up 
and waving her umbrella at the man who hit the 
ball. She thought he had done it on purpose and 
by the time she was quieted he had made home and 
the opposition went wild and the Great Benders 
looked kind of sick. 

There was a consultation between the local cap- 
tain and some of the players. 

“ Put the kid in. Give him a chance,” yelled our 
two friends, the ex-prospectors. The crowd said 
nothing, because they thought they were beaten 


THE FOURTH OF JULY 


163 


whichever way it turned. Finally the captain came 
over to me. “ All right, Bub/' he said, “ come on. 
It is your turn now." But right here a new trouble 
arose. 

The catcher refused to backstop for me and was 
balky as a mule. 

“ I ain't going to be made a fool of," he said. 

I ain’t a school kid." 

At this juncture I put in my oar. “All right," 
I said, “ my brother will do the catching. This fel- 
low could not hold me if I cut loose. Come on 
Jim." 

He was out in the field in a jiffy and then we lined 
up, with Jim behind the bat and I in the pitcher’s 
box. How the Hughesville boys did guy us, 

“ Look at the kids." 

“ Does your mamma know you’re out ? " 

“ Where is the baby’s bottle ? ’’ 

“ Who’s got some soothing syrup ? ’’ 

But our two friends made themselves heard on 
the other hand. 

“ Hey, you big farmers, shet up or put up." 

“ Back to the manure pile." 

I suppose that what the Hughesville fellows had 
said made me so mad, that I lost my judgment for 
a moment and slammed the ball straight over and 
the batter, a tall lanky fellow, knocked it through 


164 


THE FRONTIER BOVS 


short and got to second base. Now the visitors 
did yell for sure. It seemed all over but the shout- 
ing. 

The next man up was eager to distinguish him- 
self and waved his hat frantically over the plate 
to terrify me. This time I kept my head. Slowly 
I rubbed my hand in the dirt. Then just as delib- 
erately as I could, I began to make preparations to 
pitch. 

The fellow thought I was frightened, and he half 
turned his head to say something about “ the kid ” 
to the players on the bench, when I put the ball over 
like a shot. 

‘‘ One strike,’’ sang out the umpire. 

How the crowd did yell from our side. It was 
their first chance, and they made the most of it. 
And the two prospectors jumped ofif the ground, 
striking their feet together and throwing their som- 
breros into the air. The demonstration made the 
batter wild. And he was ready to strike at any- 
thing to make up for lost time. 

So I fed him a wide out-curve and he missed it 
about two feet. Almost falling over in his eager- 
ness. 

‘‘ Two strikes,” counted the umpire. 

How the crowd laughed and jeered. 

The next time he was over cautious and stood 
like a stick when I put a straight one over. 


THE FOURTH OF JULY 165 

‘‘ Three strikes and out/’ yelled the umpire. 

“ Three cheers for the ‘ kid ’ pitcher,” cried Jake, 
from the fringe of the crowd. Then there was a 
great racket. Jim turned and grinned at the oppo- 
sition bench. And he could put more insolence 
into a grin than any fellow I ever saw. But they 
were not done for yet. 

“ Show him up. Knock him out of the box,” 
they yelled to the next batter up. 

But the best he could do was a high foul, which 
Jim captured in fine style and the next man struck 
out. Still the visitors were four runs in the lead. 
I was not much of a hitter. So I let Jim bat first. 
I suppose the Hughesville pitcher thought Jim was 
easy. But he ought to have known better. 

For when he tried to be funny, Jim slammed it out 
for three bases. Them I followed. The pitcher 
was mad and sent one over like a shot. I swung 
and missed. 

“ One strike,” called the umpire. 

Then Hughesville was heard from. The next 
time I sent an easy grounder to short, and ought 
to have been thrown out, but I beat the throw a 
foot, while Jim scored. 

When the captain, the heavy hitter of the visit- 
ing team, came up in the fourth inning, I made an 
especial effort to strike him out, because I knew 
that would do more to discourage his team than 


i66 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


anything else. He was a natural ball player and a 
dangerous hitter. 

Jim motioned for a drop and I sent it over and 
he almost gauged it. Jim ordered the same thing 
again, but I shook my head and threw an out, but 
he would not bite. My best was a high in-shoot 
and I determined to try it on him. There was no 
sound from the crowd, for they were watching in- 
tently to see what the outcome of the duel between 
the “ kid pitcher ” and the batter would be. I 
poised myself and threw. He drew his head back 
in alarm. 

“Two strikes,’’ said the umpire. 

There was a big kick at this, but it earned them 
nothing. 

“ The ball cut the corner of the plate,” said the 
umpire, and that settled it. The next one was also 
a high-in, which he swung at and missed. Our side 
kept crawling up, till at the beginning of the ninth 
the score stood six-five in our favor. 

They had made a run on a two-base hit and an 
error. But by the ninth I had begun to tire and 
with only one out the bases were full. But with a 
big effort I pulled myself up another notch, de- 
termined to make a complete victory of it. And 
Jim and I pulling together for all we were worth, 
struck the last two out. And the memorable game 


THE FOURTH OF JULY' 


167 

for the year between River Bend and Hughesville 
was over. 

If we had few friends when we struck River 
Bend that morning, it was a different proposition 
after the game. For the people appreciated our 
help in winning the game for their town, and were 
mighty cordial to us. We were not only introduced 
to the mayor, but we also had the honor of meet- 
ing the orator of the day, who gave us the warm 
political handshake and condescended to relate how 
he used to play One-o-cat when he was a boy, a 
game where, if the runner was hit with the ball as 
he was running between the bases he was out. 

The two prospectors were wild with enthusiasm 
and almost compelled us to come with them to have 
a drink in celebration of the occasion. “We will 
take soda water with you,” said Tom. 

“ Soda water,” gasped Bill, “ that pizen you get 
out of those fountains. But we are game.” 

So we all went down the main street together, 
followed by an admiring crowd of small boys and 
looked at with admiration by the country girls in 
their best white dresses, tied around the waist with 
pink or blue sashes. 

There is no use denying that we thought well of 
ourselves and enjoyed the applause, which was only 
natural. The soda water fountain was in the drug 


i68 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


store and we lined up along side of the counter and 
ordered several drinks. 

“ Just plain soda for me/’ I said, “ if I have got 
to run.” 

“ Give us strawberry,” said Bill. “ It’s a warm 
color anyhow. Here’s 'wishing you luck my boy,” 
he continued, “ and may you beat the Injun,” and 
Jake followed suit. 

It was funny to see the faces of the ex-pros- 
pectors as they swallowed the soda water. 

“ My constitution wouldn’t stand much of that,” 
was the concluding comment. 


CHAPTER XX 


THE RACE 

It was now getting towards evening, and the 
long shadows of the houses and trees were extend- 
ing eastward. The wind had gone down and it was 
just a beautiful summer afternoon, tending towards 
the Peace of Evening. 

This is fine for the race, Jo,” said Jim. No 
wind to bother you.” 

“ I guess you feel pretty tired,” said Mrs. Hos- 
kins, poor boy, it’s too hard work. I wouldn’t run, 
you will hurt yourself. It was a shame the way 
those men talked to you. I could hardly stand it 
to hear them.” 

“ Oh, that’s all right, Mrs. Hoskins,” I said. 
“We ball players are used to being yelled at.” 

“ And Jo shut them up after he got started 
pitching,” said Will, who was proud of my achieve- 
ments, but I think his father was the best pleased 
of all, though he did not have so much to say as 
the others. 

“All ready for the first race,” said the marshal 
of the day, coming down the main street on his 
169 


170 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


fiery charger, that on ordinary occasions was a plain 
plow horse, as was shown by the worn places on 
his side, made by the traces. But he was quite 
martial with a blue sash across his shoulders, pinned 
by a rosette. 

The course or track was laid down the middle of 
the main street. First came the hundred-yard race. 
There were six of us entered. Long and short, fat 
and thin. But the Indian was the one I was afraid 
of, for the others looked easy. 

Why the fat, bald-headed man who was at the 
end of the line had entered, I do not know, unless 
it was for a joke. 

Are you ready ? 

“ Set yourself.’' 

Then the pistol snapped. It was a false start 
and we got in our place again. This time it was 
a go. I sprang away in the lead and I could hear 
the crowd thundering behind me. When I had gone 
half the distance the Indian pulled up even with me. 
It was nip and tuck until the last twenty-five feet, 
when he put on a wonderful burst of speed and left 
me as though I had been anchored, winning by 
about five feet. 

This gave the crowd from Hughesville a chance 
to yell. And they improved it all right. The In- 
dian had come from their section and had won many 
a race for them. He was considered unbeatable. 


THE RACE 


171 

and I could well see why, for he had remarkable 
speed. 

After the loo-yard dash came a potato race. 
Then a three-legged race, in which Jim and Will 
were entered. They managed to hip-hop in second. 
These two races furnished lots of fun for all con- 
cerned, and for the people on the sidewalks and in 
the wagons, who lined the course and who had lots 
of sport joshing the different racers. 

Now came the last race, the quarter of a mile. 
This had always been my favorite distance and I 
knew more about it than any other race. But I 
must admit that the Indian, had me more than wor- 
ried. He had the speed and Indians have always 
been famous for endurance, but there is one thing 
about a quarter of a mile dash, that it is a punishing 
race, because you do not have the distance to get 
your second wind, as in the half and mile. It has 
to be run at almost top speed. 

There was just one chance to beat the Indian, and 
that was to out-punish him. We would see who 
would stand the most. 

I want you to go in the race,’’ I said to Tom, 
“ and help me out. You haven’t done anything for 
your country to-day.” 

“All right,” said Tom, “what is it?” 

“ You are pretty fast for a short distance, and I 
want you to lead that Indian out as fast as you can 


172 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


for the first two hundred yards, then you can drop.” 
ril be quite ready to,” laughed Tom. 

There was lots of excitement along the street 
as we stalked slowly down towards the starting line, 
and everybody was on the qui-vive, standing up in 
the wagons and on the seats to get a better view of 
the course. 

In a way this was for the rubber and if the In- 
dian won both races, the Hughesville crowd would 
have something to crow over, even if they had lost 
the base ball game. 

The sun had just gone down and from the end of 
the street where the start was made, we could see 
the wide prairies in the pleasant shadow. It seemed 
cooler and more restful after all the excitement of 
the hot afternoon. But still I felt the strain of that 
race upon me in a peculiar way. I felt I must beat 
that Indian and yet I could not feel sure of success. 

There was something sinister in the feeling be- 
tween us ; it was as though, if I were beaten it would 
be a disgrace to the white people of the community 
and to my own blood. 

Besides Tom, myself and the Indian, there were 
two others ; one was a tall, lanky fellow, with very 
light hair, who played centerfield for the Hughes- 
ville team; the other was a short, stocky fellow, 
who was second baseman for our team. 

I looked at the Indian narrowly, and he seemed 


THE RACE 


173 


perfectly stolid and indifferent, but there was a 
feeling of hostility that I was conscious of. 

Up the street I could see the marshal trying to 
keep the course clear, as the people craned eagerly 
forward to see the start 

Then we got ready. Tom was next to the Indian, 
and I was third. 

“ He will have to run as he never did before,’’ 
whispered Tom. am just in trim to push him 
hard.” 

Now came that hard, heart-throbbing, intense 
moment before the signal. Then at the crack of 
the pistol, we sprang forward. 

The Indian led from the start and Tom was at 
his heels, keeping him at top speed. 

It was all I could do to keep from being distanced 
but I did manage to keep within fifteen yards of the 
flying Indian, which is striking distance in the quar- 
ter-of-a-mile. 

At the end of the first two hundred yards Tom 
dropped by the roadside, as though he were shot. 
Almost exhausted, as he was, he managed to roll 
over and yell: 

“ Go it, Jo, he’s tired.” As I swept past, that 
yell helped me a lot. 

When Tom fell, the Indian looked back, with a 
peculiar laugh that had something of the grin of 
the coyote in it. It made my blood boil and I be- 


174 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


gan to overhaul him, the dust flying back under 
my feet and every ounce of energy being put into 
my speed. At the three hundred mark I was only 
two yards behind, in the next fifty I pulled up even 
and now the crowds on either side of the street 
were yelling like mad as we came between them. 

Above the noise I could hear the yells of the two 
prospectors. “ Beat the Indian, Kid, scalp him.” 

The pace was too much for human endurance; 
it was the finish now, and I could see the tape 
twenty yards away. The Indian was tiring fast; 
I could tell that without looking, and I felt he was 
both surprised and discouraged. Now if it killed 
me I was going to beat him, and putting my pant- 
ing strength into a last burst of speed, I beat him 
out by five feet. Then almost blinded, I stumbled 
forward, but Jim caught me. 

I was ashamed to make such an exhibition at the 
finish, but it had been a grueling race, and the In- 
dian had more stamina and kept his feet though he 
was pretty well done for. 

As to the crowd, if there had been enthusiasm 
after the baseball game, this was a celebration. 
Our friends, the two prospectors, could not satisfy 
themselves with soda water this time, so they be- 
took themselves to the Grand Central Hotel after 
leading several cheers for the “ Kid.” 

It was now getting dusk and we decided not to 


THE RACE 


175 


wait for the fireworks as we wanted to get a good 
start the next morning for the wilder west, as we 
thought our vacation had lasted as long as we could 
afford. That was our side of it and Mr. Hoskins 
had to get back in time for the chores and to milk 
the cows. 

So, tired but happy, we rolled out of River Bend 
after a day we would remember with interest and 
pleasure as long as we lived. 

That was a grand-stand finish you made, Jo,’’ 
said Tom, who was evidently afraid that I would 
get the swelled head. 

All right, Tommie,” I said, patronizingly, “ how 
about your finish ; that was kind of sudden. You 
were -going like a jack rabbit after the Indian 
when you quit.” 

If it hadn’t been for me you never would have 
beaten him,” retorted Tom, and there was consid- 
erable truth in that. However,” he continued, 
“ I could not have run another step at that gait, so 
I just naturally called myself off.” 

I am glad enough you beat that Indian,” said 
Mr. Hoskins, “ it did me good through and 
through. You did well.” 

“ I bet we won’t hear so much from those fel- 
lows at Hughesville,” remarked Will. “ If they 
every peep again. I’ll ask them what they think of 
^ Kid ’ pitchers.” 


176 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


The horses took us along at a good gait and we 
soon reached home, for though we had only been 
there a few days, it did seem like home to us. 

We helped with the chores as usual, and after 
supper we sought our downy couches in the hay 
mow, and were soon sound asleep. 


CHAPTER XXI 

WE START AGAIN 

''Wake up, Jo,’’ Jim yelled in my ear, ‘'the 
Indian is going to beat you.” 

I jumped like I was shot and began paddling 
down the hay like a good fellow and how the boys 
did laugh. I dare say, it was funny to see me 
trying to beat an imaginary Indian. 

“ What’s your hurry, it isn’t daylight,” I said, 
sleepily. 

“We want to get an early start, because we 
are behind our schedule,” replied Tom ; “ what do 
you want to sleep so much for? You will get hide- 
bound.” 

“ Humph,” I retorted, proceeding to get into 
my clothes, “ it’s you who will get hidebound, sit- 
ting around, chewing your cud, while Jim and I are 
out in the hot sun, playing baseball and running 
races for the amusement of the natives and to give 
you something to brag about. You needn’t talk.” 

But he did just the same and we carried on the 
discussion, while I curried Bill and Tom sleeked 
up Black Carl. 


177 


178 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ My, but the horses are fat,” I said, after awhile. 
** The rest has done them good, but Carl’s two hind 
shoes are loose and we had better stop in River 
Bend and have them fixed.” 

Yes,” said Tom, and we have got to get more 
grub, too.” 

We gave the horses a good rubbing down and 
there is considerable fun in currying horses. It’s 
snug ” work, as the English say, and I am 
sorry for anybody who has never had a horse 
to take care of himself. I spent sometime over 
Bill’s mane and forelock, brushing them until they 
were glossy and wavy and thus got ahead of Tom, 
who did not put on any extra touches. 

It was now time for breakfast and we went in 
the house just as the sun was coming up over the 
level plain. Everything was all ready for the start 
except hitching up. Tom and I had the harness on 
the horses and Jim had the wagon greased. At 
breakfast the Hoskins expressed their regret at hav- 
ing us leave. 

I wish you boys did not have to go so soon,” 
said Mrs. Hoskins, “ we will all miss you and Will 
certainly will be lonesone.” 

That’s what I will, Ma,” he said, almost tear- 
fully, I wish I was going too.” 

No, no, son, don’t think of it for a moment,’* 
she exclaimed. 


WE START AGAIN 


179. 

“ Remember this/’ said Mr. Hoskins, that you 
promised to take me into your gold mine.” 

“ We won’t forget, you may be sure,” replied 
Tom. 

“ I have some pies and cakes for you boys,” said 
Mrs. Hoskins, “ they will make you remember the 
old folks on the Kansas farm.” 

“ We don’t need any reminder, Mrs. Hoskins,” 
said Jim with fervor, “ because we will never for- 
get your kindness to us and the good time we have 
had here. Isn’t that so, boys ? ” 

“ You bet it is,” we said in chorus. 

As we were busy getting the horses out of the 
barn, Mr. Hoskins came and spoke to us confi- 
dentially. 

“ You remember what I told you about our chil- 
dren being carried off by the Indians.” 

“ We will never forget that,” said Tom, with 
sympathy. 

“ Well, I cannot get over the idea that my boy 
and girl are still alive and with the Indians some- 
where in the mountains of Colorado. If you ever 
get a hint or rumor or sign of them let me know and 
I will come out there as fast as I can.” 

“ We most certainly will do what we can to 
help get them back,” we said with all earnestness, 
“and you will, be sure to hear from us. You can 
depend on us.” 


i8o 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


I am sure of that, boys,” he said, gratefully. 

We were soon ready and after hearty good-byes 
we started on our journey, ''Westward, Ho!” 

Mr. and Mrs. Hoskins stood by the gate watching 
us and we turned and waved good-bye with our 
hats. It was almost as hard as when we left our 
own home in the East. 

Will was in the wagon with us; no, we had not 
kidnaped him, but he was going to River Bend, 
intending to walk back. After we left the grass 
road and turned west, we felt all the eagerness and 
excitement of our first expectations come over us. 
There was something mysterious in the far-reach- 
ing plains, the bright sunshine over everything, and 
the absolute freedom of the life. Fortune, perhaps, 
and adventure surely ahead of us. No wonder we 
were happy. 

" All out for River Bend,” cried Jim, as we turned 
into the main street with the struggling cottonwoods 
on either side of the street and the few cottages, 
painted white or yellow, and further along the lines 
of gnawed hitching posts in front of the frame 
stores. All was quiet and peaceful after the ex- 
citement of the glorious Fourth. Back of the black- 
smith’s shop the usual game of horseshoes was go- 
ing on and the same old citizens were tilted back in 
their chairs in front of the Grand Central Hotel. 

We stopped in front of the "Emporium” and 


WE START AGAIN 


i8i 


Tom went in and bought what was necessary. He 
was always the purchasing agent for our party, and 
it would have taken a Yankee born in Jerusalem to 
get ahead of him. From the sounds of loud con- 
versation inside the store we guessed that Tom was 
trying to get a rebate from the clerk in charge. As 
we sat outside in the wagon waiting, various citi- 
zens sauntered up and engaged us in conversation 
about the events of the day before. 

Good morning, sonny,^’ said one white-bearded 
old fellow, leaning on his cane. “ How’s your laigs 
feelin’ this mornin’; pretty lame, eh? Glad you 
beat the Indian. I used to run that away when I 
was your age.” 

I bet you ran faster than that when the Injuns 
chased you off Williams creek,” said a young clerk 
standing near by. 

The old man began to sputter in his indignation 
and we took advantage of the interruption to go into 
the drug store and get some soda water, the last 
we were to taste for some time. The man refused 
to take anything for the drinks. 

Your money is no good here, boys,” said the 
clerk. This town owes you something for beat- 
ing those Hughesville fellows.” We thanked 
him. 

Have you seen anything of those two prospec- 
tors who were yelling around here?” said Jim. 


i 82 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


Oh, those fellars ; they are up at the Grand Cen- 
tral dead drunk ; they was celebrating all last night 
because you boys beat.’’ 

We were sorry that their enthusiasm had to take 
that turn, but we were just as well satisfied not to 
see them, because, though they were good boosters, 
they were hardly good companions and we thought 
that we would probably run across them again on 
our travels. By the time Jim and I came out of 
the drug store, Tom had bought out the town at 
reduced rates. 

“Did you jew ’em down, Tom?” I asked. 

“ Of course I did,” he replied, “ did you think 
I had come out this far to get cheated? Not much. 
I’m not like you, paying the first price they ask. 
Not on your life.” 

We received quite an ovation as we left the town. 
People on either side of the street wished us good 
luck. 

“ Strike it rich, boys.” 

“ We’ll bet on you.” 

“ Pike’s Peak or Bust,” were the farewell yells 
that greeted us. 

“ Why didn’t you get up, Jim, on the seat,” I 
asked, “ and give a farewell address to the populace ; 
' What’s banished but set free,’ and all that rot ? ” 

“ I know that piece,” said Will, “ we speak it at 
our school.” 


JVE START AGAIN- 


183 


‘‘ You ought to have taken off your sombrero 
yourself and bowed to the plaudits of the muliti- 
tude,” retorted Jim. “ You don’t know how to take 
that sort of thing; you just hang back like a whipped 
pup. Why don’t you get some style on you ? ” 

“ I’ll let you furnish that,” I said, “ that’s all you 
are good for.” 

At the edge of the village we said good-bye to 
Will Hoskins with much regret, for he was a nice 
fellow and wasn’t a fool, even if he had lived in the 
country all his life. We were sorry to see him leg- 
ging it alone across the prairie towards his home. 
But he had wanted to be with us as long as possible ; 
that is why he had ridden with us to River Bend. 

‘‘ Make ’em go, now,” I said to Jim, who was 
doing the driving. ‘‘ They have had a long rest.” 

‘‘ Get ap. Bill,” urged the driver ; “ Get ap, Carl.” 

Giving each horse a light touch with the black- 
snake, away we went at a merry clip along the 
level road that stretched away for miles in the 
distance, until it went over a rise of ground and 
disappeared. 

“ It’s great ! it^s great ! ” yelled Tom ; hurrah 
for the Wild West and all its Injuns ! ” 

To which toast we responded heartily. 

“ We ought to see the Colorado Mountains now 
inside of two weeks,” said Jim. 

With good luck we would and it sent a thrill 


i84 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


through me just to hear the name. We had always 
dreamed of those mountains with all their hidden 
adventures. 

You can see them for two hundred miles if it 
is clear weather/’ said Tom. ** It’s true, you just 
wait and see,” he continued in reply to Jim’s ob- 
jections. 

I was looking out of the back of the wagon to 
see if I could catch a glimpse of Will in the dis- 
tance. 

'' Hello ! ” I exclaimed, “ what’s this coming be- 
hind us?” 


CHAPTER XXII 


A PRAIRIE SCHOONER 

“ It isn’t those prospectors, is it? ” inquired Tom 
in alarm, as Jim pulled the team up and we all stood 
up on the front board and looked back over the top 
of the wagon. 

'‘What is it?” asked Tom, in amazement, “I 
can’t for the life of me make out.” 

“It’s something big and white, it’s coming fast, 
too,” remarked Jim. 

“ It’s a white covered wagon running away,” said 
Tom. 

“ It’s somebody’s wash got loose on the prairie 
wind,” said Jim. 

“ It can’t be a ghost this time of day,” I said ; 
“ it must be a ship that thinks this is the Pacific 
Ocean, for that looks to me like a sail on a sloop.” 

As it happened, I guessed nearest to the truth. 

“ Whatever it is,” said Jim in alarm, “ it has the 
right of way and I’m going to get out of the road.” 

And he turned out to one side and faced the 
horses about towards the coming object. It was 
just as well that he got the team out of the road, for 

185 


i86 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


the horses were terribly uneasy as they caught sight 
of the white-winged mystery bearing down on us. 

It was all Jim could do to hold them as they 
plunged and reared. I had never seen them so 
frightened. Now it was about three hundred yards 
off, coming along the road at a great rate, almost 
as fast as a train would go and leaving a cloud of 
dust behind it. 

My goodness ! ” exclaimed Tom, that’s a 
wagon with a sail on it, and what do you think of 
that?” 

Tom was right, it was a broad-tired wagon with 
a platform built over the running gear and a mast 
fitted in it with a sail attached. 

“ That’s a prairie schooner for certain,” laughed 
Jim, as it whirled by; we could see three men sit- 
ting on the deck, one steering and the other two 
holding ropes. They waved their hands at us 
and yelled : 

“ Pike’s Peak or Bust,” and then disappeared be- 
hind a cloud of dust. We had no time to exchange 
farewells with them for the horses were wild. 
Trying to stand on their heads one second and 
then doing their best to get away. Finally Black 
Carl fell down and got tangled in the harness and 
lay there panting and wild-eyed. Jim and Tom 
yanked him to his feet and by the time we got them 
to the road they had quieted down. 


A PRAIRIE SCHOONER 187 

“ There they go/’ said Tom, pointing to the dis- 
tance. 

We could see the white patch of sail on the 
road where it went over the ridge, then it disap- 
peared. 

“ That’s what I call traveling,” said Tom. “ It 
makes our gait seem pretty slow.” 

Yes,” I remarked, “ but that’s dangerous work 
going at that rate. Suppose they strike a rough 
place going full tilt, something is going to break ! ” 

‘‘ Give me the horses every time,” said Jim, “ they 
may seem slow, but they are sure.” 

It was something over an hour when we reached 
the rise in the road, and from the ridge we saw a 
new horizon. 

I don’t see a sign of those fellows,” said Jim, 

and their new-fangled sail boat.” 

“ Maybe they have sunk,” laughed Tom. 

“ More than likely they have run aground,” I 
said. 

We drove on rapidly down the gentle slope for 
several miles. Ahead of us was a break in the 
road made by a deep and narrow gully. 

There they are,” exclaimed Tom. 

‘‘Who?” I asked. 

“ Why, those fellows, of course,” he replied. 

“ It’s the hare and the tortoise again,” said Jim. 
Just as I had predicted, they had come to grief. 


i88 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


when they struck a bad place in the road. We went 
down to see what the trouble was, leaving Tom with 
the horses. 

“ Pike’s Peak and busted,” said Jim as we laid 
alongside of the wreck. “ Is there anything we 
can do ? ” 

The three men were of a different stripe than any 
we had met in the West and I did not care for their 
style at all, no more than for Cal Jenkins, though 
they came from a different class of society. 

Two of the men were young bloods, evidently 
from a wealthy family and going West on a lark; 
the other was an elderly man, whom the others 
called Judge. He wore a broad sombrero and a 
long Prince Albert coat, and striped gray pants, 
strapped under his boots like Uncle Sam, as seen in 
the pictures. They did not seem to be worrying 
when we first saw them, as they were engaged in a 
card game. 

You think yourself all-fired funny, don’t you, 
boy,” said one of the young fellows. “We would 
like your horses to go back to River Bend and get 
help.” 

“ You may like them a long time, but you don’t 
get them,” said Jim, bristling up. 

“ Then we will take them, won’t we, Percy ? ” he 
said. 

“To the devil with you and Percy,” cried Jim, 


PRAIRIE SCHOONER’’ 189 

white with anger — this was the first and only time 
I ever heard Jim express himself in that way. 

“ Hey, Tom,” he yelled, “ there’s a couple of 
dudes here who are going to take our horses, you 
know what to do with horse thieves.” 

The fellow had a blue silk handkerchief around 
his neck and a fancy shirt on. At the sound of 
Jim’s challenge he drew out a tiny silver-mounted 
pistol. 

“ Throw up your hands ! ” he commanded in 
quavering tones, and was about to level the thing 
at Jim, when the judge interfered. 

‘‘ Put up that squirt gun, Spencer,” he drawled, 
stepping between Jim and the young city sport. 
This is not an afternoon tea, my deah boy.” 

'' Let him fire away. Judge,” said Jim, “ he won’t 
hurt anybody with that thing.” 

“ Now, my deah boys, we do not wish to quarrel 
with you, but we would like your valuable advice 
and assistance.” 

We thought he was probably guying us, but we 
could not tell, so we decided to be very polite our- 
selves. 

“ It would give us great pleasure. Judge,” 
said Jim, “ to lend you any assistance at our com- 
mand.” 

I think Jim had read this out of a novel, it 
sounded to me like a quotation. 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


190 

Have you any old Bourbon whiskey ? asked 
the judge. 

‘‘ Oh, is it that kind of help you want ?” 1 said. 

“ No, but we have some Jamaica ginger, that’s 
good for the stomach, too.” 

This seemed to amuse Spencer and Percy very 
much. They thought it was my innocence, when 
I was sarcastic. It was very hard to be misunder- 
stood. 

Meanwhile Jim was making a thorough examina- 
tion of the wreck that blocked our way and then 
he brought in his verdict. 

‘‘ It won’t take long. Judge, to put that in shape; 
you need a splice for your mast, that’s the main 
thing.” 

‘‘ Is that so, my young friend ? ” he said, amiably 
surprised; ‘‘you Yankees are certainly ingenious; 
that’s a quality we Southerners lack.” 

Jim hurried back to the wagon and got a hammer 
and some nails and with my help he got the mast 
up and then took a look at the running gear. 

“ She’s all shipshape now,” he said, “ the next 
thing is to get this thing out of the ditch, because 
she will certainly be becalmed here.” 

“ That’s so. Colonel, that’s so,” acquiesced the 
judge, who fell into the humor of the occasion, 
while Spencer and Percy held stiffly aloof ; “ we will 
launch her again, there is nothing like life on the 


A PRAIRIE SCHOONER 


191 

ocean wave, but how are we to get her out of the 
trough of the sea/' 

“ That’s a good one, Judge,” laughed Jim, and 
the judge seemed pleased at the compliment. I 
think that he and Jim would have made good 
friends, for they were both born actors. 

We’ll hitch onto the Mayflower,” said Jim. 

“ Don’t call her the Mayflower,” expostulated the 
judge, that’s too Yankee a name. I’ll christen her 
the ^ Jeif Davis.’ ” 

All right,” said Jim, it’s your boat, but she’s 
apt to hang ‘ in irons.’ ” The judge slapped his 
knee. 

“ You young rascal,” he said, and then burst into 
hearty laughter. 

Prairie schooner ahoy there ! ” Jim yelled to 
Tom, who was impatiently holding the horses, 
awaiting further developments. We’ve got a tow 
here, cast loose your lines and steer over here.” 

“ I’ll give you a toe,” retorted Tom, ‘‘ if you 
don’t come up here and lend a hand.” 

To prevent mutiny, we went to Tom’s assistance 
•and took off the whiffletree. We fastened it with 
some ropes to the front axle and managed to get 
the “ Jeff Davis ” after an hour’s hard work to the 
top of the gully. We could only haul a foot or two 
at a time and it required constant blocking. 

There was quite a breeze blowing from the East 


192 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


and we supposed that they would start right off, 
but we did not know the judge and his partners, for 
they sat down to a card game. 

“We have to finish this game/^ he said to us; 
“you know, my young friends, business before 
pleasure.” 

“We will be trotting along, then,” said Jim. 
“ Good-bye, Perce ; good-bye, Spence. Don't shoot 
until we get out of range.” 

At which parting shot we trotted away, the 
judge waving his sombrero gracefully in farewell. 

“Well, that's the beatingest crowd ever I saw,” 
said Tom. 

“ I wonder what will become of them,” I said, 
“they can’t look after themselves. Somebody will 
always have to be picking them up.” 

“ I am not going to worry,” said Tom, “ I guess 
the Indians will gather them in.” 

It would be a pity to have Spence and Perce 
scalped, now wouldn't it? ” said Jim. “ I'm afraid 
that they are too dangerous characters to be let 
loose in this peaceful country.” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


A CLOSE CALL 

We went into camp that evening, near our old 
friend, the Arkansas River. 

“We don’t have to cross that again, do we?” I 
asked anxiously. 

“ Nixey,” said Tom, “ once is enough.” 

“ It seems kind of good to be out in the open 
again,” said Jim ; “I guess we will be regular sav- 
ages and never go inside of a house when we get 
back East. I’m in no hurry.” 

“ The East is a good, comfortable place, after all/^ 
said Tom, “you always know what to expect there, 
plenty to eat and lots of pretty girls.” 

“ It’s a good place for old women,” said Jim, con- 
temptuously. “ There’s something in the world be- 
sides pretty girls and eating. What’s moonlight on 
the river to crawling up on a band of antelope or 
chasing horse thieves. And what’s the fun of set- 
ting up a tepee on a hill, where there’s nothing 
fiercer than a flock of sheep in a thousand miles, or 
crawling on a trail through the brush pretending 
you’re wild Indians and if a cat happens to meow, 
193 


194 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


the whole bunch would be scared cold. That’s 
what the East is, ye Gods! it makes my blood run 
cold. Back there your very soul gets hide bound.” 

“ They have got all the money in the East,” I 
said, “ and that’s what counts.” 

Yes,” retorted Jim, “ if that’s what you count.” 

You think you are a hot orator, quoting from 
Shakespeare and never giving the old gent credit. 
You stay here in the Woolly West for a while and 
when you get back the East won’t own you,” said 
Tom, witheringly. 

“ What do I care,” replied the untrameled Jim, 
with cold indifference. 

“ Yes, and when you grow up out here, you won’t 
know how to act in Society. You will trip the girls 
up when you try to dance with them and like as not 
wear a dress suit to luncheon and order the cham- 
pagne with the roast beef and make Jo and I 
ashamed of you.” 

‘‘ Terrible I terrible ! ” exclaimed Jim, ‘‘ I’ll have 
a leetle more of that thar bacon, Mr. Percival 
Givell, and you can pour me out a little more of that 
Arkansas champagne, because I’m feeling extra dry 
and I always take champagne with the bacon 
course. “ Gentlemen,” he said, raising his tin cup, 
with gallant grace, “ I drink to the combined health 
of the yeasty East and the Woolly West,” and then 
he sat gracefully down on — the ground. Tom 


A CLOSE CALL 


195 


having surreptiously removed the soap box on 
which Jim had been sitting. 

This brought the intersectional discussion to an 
abrupt close. Shortly after supper we turned in 
for the night, I sleeping in the wagon as usual and 
the other two boys in the tent. I had been asleep 
about a couple of hours when Ben woke me up, 
barking furiously. 

I hurried to get out, because I remembered our 
experience with the horsethieves and I was afraid 
that some one was trying to make off with them. I 
looked anxiously out and saw that they were all 
right where we had lariated them down by the river, 
but they were evidently frightened at something 
they saw in the darkness, because they were stirring 
uneasily and were looking beyond the camp with 
their heads up and ears pricked forward. 

Ben was barking in the same direction and then 
for the first time in my unhaunted life I saw a 
ghost. It was some distance off, moving silently 
and swiftly along, wrapt in its ghostly shroud and, 
strange to say, at its feet were two lights. I never 
had heard that ghosts carried lights on dark nights 
to show them the way. 

I called excitedly to Tom and Jim: “Wake up, 
boys, there’s a ghost coming.” 

They tumbled out of the tent with tousled heads. 

“ What’s the fuss now ? ” asked Tom, gruffly. 


196 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ That’s what it is. See over there,” I cried, 
“ that’s a ghost, or I’ll eat my hat.” 

It does look funny,” said Tom, “ I wonder what 
it is.” 

“ If it comes our way. I’m going to shoot,” I said, 
getting my rifle ready. 

Hold on,” exclaimed Jim, I know what it 
is. It’s the good ship ‘ Jeff Davis,’ sailing through 
the night.” 

“ Ship ahoy,” yelled Tom, as it came in line with 
us. 

“ Thow up your hands,” yelled Jim. 

“ Duck,” I cried, as two tiny flashes punctured 
the darkness. 

“ It’s Percy and Spencer,” cried Jim, and they 
have unlimbered their cannon. Let’s give ’em a 
send off.” 

Then our three rifles rang out with their sharp, 
swift challenge, over the heads of the Argonauts. 

Just see them sputter,” laughed Jim as there 
came a succession of weak flashes from the toy 
pistols. Then came a streak of flame from the side 
of ‘‘ The Jeff Davis,” and a sharp, singing sound. 

“ Look out,” exclaimed Jim, “ the judge is in ac- 
tion.” 

Then we ducked for sure and took shelter be- 
hind a bank until the ‘‘ Jeff Davis ” had sailed out 
of range. 


A CLOSE CALL 


197 


Those fools will kill themselves/’ said Tom, 
“ running full speed at night in this part of Kansas.” 

I’m going to bed,” said Jim, “ until the next 
ghost comes along.” 

Where are the horses?” I asked in alarm. 

“ I guess that they are down there by the river, 
all right,” said Jim, uneasily. 

“ We will soon find out’,” said Tom, taking the 
lead, and we hastened after him, only to find the 
horses gone. They had become thoroughly fright- 
ened by the sight of the moving ghost and had 
pulled up the iron lariat pins and disappeared. 

‘‘ I hope they don’t take it into their heads to go 
home,” I said. 

“ It would be a nice fifteen hundred-mile walk,” 
said Jim, encouragingly. 

It wouldn’t surprise me a bit if they had gone 
back to Mr. Hoskins,” said Tom. 

The best way to find out is to get started,” said 

Jim. 

It was not difficult to follow the trail of the 
rope and the pin, until we came to the place where 
the horses had struck the road, going east and 
then the trail was easy enough to follow. After 
we had gone a quarter of a mile, a sudden thought 
made me stop. 

I don’t believe, boys, that it is safe to leave the 
camp alone,” I said. 


198 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


'' That’s so,” agreed Tom. 

Who will go back,” said Jim, “ I guess that it’s 
Jo’s turn to stay with the goods.” 

I don’t see why I have to,” I demurred. 

'‘All those in favor of Mr. Joseph Darlington 
being chairman of the house guard committee, say 
aye.” 

“Aye,” shouted Tom. 

“ Aye,” echoed Jim. 

“ No,” I shouted, “ anyway, I take Ben.” 

The boys left me to take up the trail again. 
Alone except for the dog I took my way back. 
For some reason I did not want to go to the camp. 
I felt nervous and apprehensive and it seemed ter- 
ribly lonely. It was now verging toward mid- 
night and the stars shone unobscured. I seemed 
utterly alone with nothing but the stars overhead 
and the vagrant wind moaning over the shadowy 
plains. 

As I drew near the camp I could see the white of 
the tent and the bulk of the wagon a few feet away. 
Then I stopped while the blood seemed to freeze 
in my veins and around my heart, for I thought I 
saw a light in the tent just as though some one had 
struck a match for a second. I decided that it must 
be a firefly, still I approached the camp with great 
caution. It was the first time that I had been left 


A CLOSE CALL 


199 


without either Tom or Jim to rely on in case of an 
emergency and I did not like it. 

I could have sworn that there was something 
dangerous lurking in that camp. I felt the presence 
of it, though I could not see it. There seemed to 
be something underneath the wagon like the bent 
form of a man crouching down. Carefully I 
crawled towards it, keeping on the alert. The form 
was dark, but the man seemed to have yellow hair. 

Get out of there,’' I warned, ** or Fll shoot,” and 
the man did not budge. By this time I had reached 
the end of the wagon and found out to my relief 
that what I supposed was a man, was a clump of 
yellow-headed sunflowers, bent underneath the 
wagon. 

I laughed, but still I could not help but feel that 
there was something or somebody around or in the 
camp. It was not the fright of a boy alone in the 
dark, but a curious sense of another presence that 
I could not see, but feel. I was partially under the 
wagon when I cautiously turned my head and I saw 
coming towards me a figure on all fours, not more 
than fifty feet away. At first I thought it was an 
animal and then I saw it for what it was, creeping 
stealthily towards me, yet there was something of 
the sleek skill of the panther in its approach. 

As I moved it dropped to the ground and there 


200 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


was not a hint of its presence. No sooner had this 
happened than I sprang from under the wagon, as 

quick as a flash I ran around to the front and 

tumbled into the welcome darkness of the interior. 
I knew that the man had followed me with the 
quickness of the wild animal, but with the start I 
had, I was to swift for him and for the moment he 
was baffled. Then came a time of terrible suspense 
and waiting. 

I did not know exactly where he was in the dark- 
ness, but I was sure that he could not attack me 

from the front of the wagon for I was ready for 

him, with the revolver, and if that failed me the 
bowie knife was ready to my hand. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE SIGN OF THE BOWIE KNIFE 

An hour must have passed in this intense waiting. 
Occasionally a sound outside made me suspicious 
that the man was about to make a move, but it 
might have been just the wind rustling the grasses. 
Then I heard a most welcome sound. 

At first I was hardly willing to believe my ears, 
then I was sure that it was the sound of horses^ 
hoofs and next came the tones of Tom’s voice and 
Jim’s. I fired one shot to attract their attention, 
then I cleared out of that wagon in one jump. All 
my pent-up energy going into one decisive action. 
I was determined to flush that fellow out. The 
miserable scoundrel who would have sneaked up 
behind me and stuck his knife into my back. 

No sooner had I struck the ground, than I 
stumbled and the pistol flew out of my hand. I had 
no time to hunt for it in the darkness. I turned 
instinctively to the back of the wagon and there 
that rascal was, dodging off like a scared shadow, 
evidently expecting to be fired at, but all I could do 
201 


202 


THE FRONTIER BOVS 


was to chase after him and that I did with a right 
good will. 

He seemed not to run but just to glide, fast as the 
wind but I seemed to gain on him as he ran for 
the river. Once he turned and with a flash some- 
thing left his hand. I dodged instinctively and it 
swished by my ear. What it was I could not tell. 
I knew the river must stop him and I redoubled 
my efforts to bring him to bay. Behind me I could 
hear Tom and Jim galloping furiously. 

Then the man reached the bank of the river and 
I knew I had him, because no one would dare those 
fatal quicksands. Then to my utter astonishment, 
he ran straight into the river. For the moment I 
was paralysed, looking for him to sink but he 
seemed simply to glide over the surface, occasionally 
I would hear through the darkness the splash of 
water, in a half minute he had disappeared. Tom 
and Jim came down the slope full tilt and almost 
went head first into the river. 

“ What in thunder is all this excitement about, 
Jo? ” cried Tom. 

Can’t we leave you alone for a few minutes 
without you getting up a celebration ? ” inquired 
Jim. 

'' Did you see that fellow running ? ” I asked. 

Sure, we saw him take to the river,” said Tom, 

what was his hurry? ” 


THE SIGN OF THE BOWIE KNIFE 


203 


“ When I came back to the wagon he was lying 
in wait for me and tried to slip up behind me and 
stick me in the back.” 

Whew ! ” whistled Jim, “ tell us about it.” 

Where did you find the horses ? ” I asked. 

Never mind about that now, we will tell you 
later. You spin your yarn.” 

So I told them and wound up by saying that the 
next time they wanted to leave me alone, I wouldn’t 
stay. 

Ha, ha,” laughed Jim, that’s the Irish of it.’^ 

“ No,” I said, “ it is the straight of it.” 

Did you get a close enough view, to see what 
kind of a looking chap he was ? ” asked Tom. 

“ No, I didn’t see his face, but there was some- 
thing familiar about him, especially his run.” 

Then it came ' over me in a flash. Great 
Heavens ! boys,” I exclaimed, I know who it was. 
It was that Indian.” 

‘‘ By Jove, I wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” said 
Tom, ‘‘ the sneaking, dirty dog was lying in wait 
to get even.” 

“ That’s who it was,” I confirmed, “ just his 
height and there is no mistaking that run. No won- 
der I could not catch him.” 

‘‘ He is so quick and light-footed, that he could 
cross the river and never sink,” said Jim. 

Sometime or other we will run across that 


204 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


scamp and either he will get us or we will get him, 
you see,'’ prophesied Tom. 

“Now I have told you my yarn, let’s hear about 
the horses,” I said. 

“ There’s nothing exciting about that, except rid- 
ing bareback and charging down to the river to 
catch your friend, the Indian,” said Tom. “ You 
see we followed the trail back about three or four 
miles and we found Bill quietly grazing near the 
road, while Black Carl had got the lariat wound 
around a soap weed and had come to a sudden 
stop. So we got aboard and came back toward the 
camp, and heard you fire a salute in our honor.” 

“ There’s one thing certain,” I said, “ I’m not 
going to sleep in that wagon to-night. It’s up to 
either one of you.” 

“ All right,” said Jim, “ I’ll sleep there. I don’t 
blame you for feeling a little bit scary. It wasn’t 
a very pleasant experience.” 

And so it was arranged. 

The next morning I went out to examine the bat- 
tleground of the night before and to see what traces 
I could find of my friend, the enemy. The boys 
went with me on the search. 

“ It was right around here that he flung that 
thing at me,” I said. ^ 

“You don’t suppose that it was an arrow?” 
queried Tom. 


THE SIGN OF THE BOWIE KNIFE 205 

I don’t know exactly what it was,” I said, ‘‘ ex- 
cept that it whizzed darn close to my ear.” 

Hello,” exclaimed Jim, stooping and picking up 
something. We hurried to see what it was. 

“ Gee, it’s a knife,” I said, “ it’s a wicked looking 
thing.” 

‘‘ It sure is,” said Tom, taking it in hand. 

We all inspected it with intense interest, because 
we felt sure that it had a sinister history. It was 
two-edged, like a dagger, with a groove down the 
center. The handle was of brown bone carved with 
the mystic symbols that the Indians of the plains 
used. 

I’m glad to have found this knife,” said Jim, 
“ won’t it make the boys open their eyes back home, 
when I show it to them, especially when they hear 
that it belonged to a real Indian and I bet the girls 
would scream if you pointed it at them.” 

Oh, I say,” I remonstrated, when I got over my 
astonishment, I guess that knife belongs to me.” 

Well, you guess wrong,” said Jim, decisively, 
‘‘ I found it and I am going to keep it.” 

“ But the Indian tried to give it to me,” I re- 
plied, whimsically, and it was my risk and I 
think you have a pretty cool nerve to want to keep 
it.” 

Well, I’m agoing to, what will you do about 
it? ” proposed Jim. 


2o6 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


ril take it away from you, that’s what I will 
do,” and I advanced to the attack. 

Hold on,” said Tom, don’t you boys get into 
a fight. Don’t we have enough trouble on the out- 
side without you making home unhappy this way? 
I’ll toss up; the best two out of three.” 

We objected to this method for some time, for we 
each felt sure of the right of his own case, but we 
finally submitted to arbitration. 

‘‘ Heads or tails,” said Tom, tossing the penny 
into the air. 

“ Tails,” cried Jim. 

We bent over intently. 

“Heads it was,” said Tom. “Now Jo?”- 

“ Heads.” 

“ Tails it is,” chanted Tom. 

This was the decisive moment. The coin turned 
over and over in the air. 

“ Tails,” cried Jim. 

“ Hurrah,” I cried, it’s heads and an Indian’s 
head right there on the penny.” 

Jim gave it up in disgust, and sulked for a half 
a day, and would not speak to either Tom or I. 
How I did enjoy carrying that knife and it gave me 
a peculiar distinction that Mr. Bowie himself must 
have been conscious of when he first wore the 
weapon named in his honor. 

I always had it with me, carrying it in an orna- 


THE SIGN OF THE BOWIE KNIFE 


207 


mental sheath attached to my belt on the right side, 
near the hip. Often I would take it out of the 
leather sheath and study the curious work on the 
handle. That it had a history no one could doubt. 
For all I knew it might have belonged to some 
Texas scout or other ranger, for the bone handle 
was characteristic of their weapons. If the Indians 
had captured it, they had no doubt carved the handle 
after their own fashion. It was to be of help to 
me on more than one occasion. How do I know 
but it may sometime in the future be turned against 
the renegade Indian who threw it at me. 


CHAPTER XXV 

THE CYCLONE 

When we started again, it was an unusually 
warm, close atmosphere that surrounded us. 

“ I wonder what is the matter,” growled Tom, 
“ it’s so hot that it makes me sweat sitting still. 
I think that we must be near a prairie fire.” 

“ You are a great reasoner, Tom,” laughed Jim. 
“ Do you imagine that you draw up to a prairie as 
to a stove and warm your toes.” 

You can be sure of one thing,” I put in ; “ that 
if there is a prairie fire coming that we will have 
some warning in the way of smoke.” 

“ I am sure of one thing,” said Tom, ‘‘ that 
something is going to happen.” 

“ Nothing very perilous, I guess,” replied Jim, 
“ perhaps you will catch cold in your head from 
having your mouth open or something like that.” 

‘‘ You need not be so funny,” retorted Tom, 
‘‘you just wait and see.” 

“ Draw near and listen to the Great Weather 
Prophet,” cried Jim in his most oratorical man- 
ner. 

208 


THE CYCLONE 


209 


It is a queer sort of a day,” I said, affected 
by Tom’s prognostications, “ the clouds look so 
murky.” 

“ You are a joyful pair,” snorted Jim. If Tom 
squints then Jo does the same.” 

But it is an axiom that no prophet is appreci- 
ated by his own relatives. We drove on slowly 
because the horses seemed tired and were wet with 
sweat, and where the harness worked on their 
bodies there was white lather. 

“ I believe we will have a thunder-storm,” said 
Jim after a while. 

“ So you • are going to do some prophesying 
yourself,” sneered Tom, “perhaps you will find 
that Jo and I are not such fools after all.” 

“ No, you are not fools,” said Jim, “ only 
twins.” 

“ It’s lucky you aren’t twins,” said Tom with 
vehemence, “ because one of you is enough.” 

“ You can’t have too much of a good thing,” 
laughed Jim, “ I guess the weather has made you 
hot too.” 

“ There is something in that,” I said, “ the 
weather does have a whole lot to do with one’s 
temper.” 

“ That’s all nonsense,” said Jim, “ people get 
cross and then blame it on the weather.” 

“ You needn’t tell me,” said Tom doggedly. 


210 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ that the weather doesn’t affect you. It stands to 
reason that if it is cloudy it makes you feel gloomy 
and if the sun shines then it cheers you up.” 

“You ought to go into the lecture business, 
Tom,” grunted Jim, “ there is no use wasting your 
talents on this desert air.” 

“ Or on this ’ere desert,” I said. 

“Get up. Bill! Get up, Carl!” urged Jim. 
“We must hurry and get these lunatics to an in- 
sane asylum. The heat has affected their minds.” 

“ Look up north, boys,” I cried, “ there is some- 
thing going to happen. Just look at those black 
clouds boiling up.” 

“The wind is certainly having a dance with 
them,” remarked Jim, “ just stirring them around 
and around.” 

“ Let’s hurry and get out of the way,” exclaimed 
Tom. 

“ Where shall we hurry to ? ” I said. “ One 
place is as good as another if a storm strikes us; 
we can’t dodge it.” 

“ I can see some ranche buildings,” said Tom, 
“ about two miles off. Perhaps we can reach 
them.” 

“Are you sure that it is a ranche,” said Jim, 
“maybe it’s just a mirage.” 

“ I bet it isn’t a mirage,” replied Tom, “ I guess 
I can see.” 


THE CYCLONE 


2II 


But we did not have time to reach the desired 
haven, and perhaps it was just as well as it turned 
out. 

Look out, here she comes ! ’’ yelled Jim. 

There was no question about its coming. The 
black clouds were whirling faster and faster and 
were forming in a funnel shape, the small end 
touching the earth and then lifting and striking 
again. 

‘‘ It’s a hurricane ! ” I exclaimed in alarm. 

‘‘ No, it’s a cyclone ! ” cried Tom. “ If it strikes 
here it will be all up with us.” 

“Up sure enough,” grinned Jim, “just about 
two hundred feet up.’^ 

It was coming down on us faster than the 
winds, the broad upper part of the funnel whirl- 
ing among the high clouds. There was a curious 
bronze glare of light covering the whole plains. 

“What shall we do?” cried Tom. 

“ Get out of the way as much as possible,” said 
Jim. 

The whirling funnel was bearing down directly 
On the ranche. 

“ I hope that the place is deserted,” I said. 

“ It would be if I was there,” said Tom, his 
teeth chattering in spite of the heat of which he 
had complained. 

The cyclone was sweeping down upon the 


212 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


doomed ranche. Then with a terrific whirl we saw 
the house and barn sucked up into the whirling 
vortex. Bodily it seemed for a ways. There was 
a gigantic humor about it, as it toyed with the 
structures snatched from the earth. 

On the upper stratum of the cyclone loose boards 
were flying. It was coming down upon us. Talk 
about an express train. There was no comparison. 
When the elements go absolutely crazy there is 
something terrible beyond expression. The clouds 
and the winds were frenzied in their furious 
waltz. 

Jim stood up in the front of the wagon, whipping 
the horses with the blacksnake. 

Get out of this,” he yelled, and there was a 
fierce excitement in his voice. 

Tom and I hung frantically to the bottom of 
the wagon. 

Away we went, streaking it across the prairie. 
The horses at full gallop, the wagon jouncing and 
swaying. Then with a roar like ten Niagaras the 
cyclone swept by and we were caught on its outer 
skirts. 

In a jiffy cur wagon was turned over and the 
horses too. Tom and I were scrambling like a 
couple of frightened cats in the canvas top of our 
wagon and Jim had disappeared. 

A curious silence was over all the prairie. The 


THE CYCLONE 


213 


sun was shining and the cyclone was whirling 
miles away on its mad path of destruction. 

“ Come, boys, it is time to get up.” It was Jim’s 
voice. 

Where are we ? ” I asked in trembling tones. 

“ Kansas,” said Jim laconically. Did you think 
it was heaven ? ” 

Feared it might be the other place,” I answered. 

“ Seems like it after that hellabullo,” said Tom, 
as he crawled out. I followed suit. 

“ My ! how quiet it is,” I said, looking around. 

‘‘Yes, the sun is shining,” remarked Jim, “and 
the little birds are chirping in the trees. Look out, 
here comes a board.” 

We looked up and saw it come sailing down out 
of a clear sky. Then it struck about twenty feet 
away from us. 

“ That will do nicely for kindling,” said Jim, 
“ it’s an ill wind that blows nobody good.’” 

“ Well, I suppose things are all smashed to 
pieces,” said Tom, sorrowfully. 

“ No,” said Jim, “ but come, lend a hand and 
let’s get things righted.” 

The horses were flat on their sides, tangled in 
the harness and had given up trying to kick them- 
selves loose, so that they were easier to handle. 

We tugged and yanked and pulled. Finally we 
got them right side up with care. They stood 


214 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


trembling from their fright, but perfectly manage- 
able. 

Get the picket ropes,” ordered Jim, and we 
will lariat them out while we get the wagon up.” 

‘‘ How are we going to manage it? ” asked Tom 
dubiously. “ It’s too heavy ; we will have to get 
help.” 

Help nothing,” growled Jim, “ where could we 
get help in this country. I suppose we might wait 
for another cyclone to come along and pick us 
up.” 

Perhaps we could hitch the horses to it and 
pull it up,” I said. 

I don’t see how you can get a purchase on it 
to do that,” protested Jim. 

We walked around our capsized prairie 
schooner, viewing it from all sides. It did seem' 
to be rather a hopeless situation. !At least it was 
a difficult problem for three boys alone on the big 
prairie with the only ranche in sight just taken ug 
into the clouds. 

There is just one way,” said Jim finally, “ and 
that is to take everything out of the wagon box.” 
This we did. 

“Now we must yank that box away from the 
running gear.” 

This was not so difficult after the provisions* 
bedding, etc., had been removed. 


THE CYCLONE 


215 


“ Now we can right the running gear/’ said the 
Boss. 

So we got the wagon up on its pins, I mean its 
wheels, again. 

Now all hands get hold of the box,” he di- 
rected. 

This was the hardest of all. Together we got 
the hind end of the box poised on the back wheel. 

‘‘ Tom, you steady it while Jo and I lift the front 
end on,” he said. 

It was heavy, I tell you, but we managed to lift 
the box clear of the front wheels and drop it into 
position. Then we went to Tom’s assistance and 
lifted the other end over the hind wheels and 
put it down straight and the worst of our task was 
over. 

The harness needs some mending and then we 
will be ready to start,” said Jim. 

“I hope that will be our last cyclone,” I said, 

once is enough.” 

Maybe you fellows will laugh at me again,” 
said Tom in melancholy triumph. ‘‘ Didn’t I tell 
you what would happen ? ” 

You did. Tommy, you did,” acquiesced Jim, 
‘‘and the next time you predict anything as bad 
as that, I will have to punish you.” 

“What happened to you, Jim, when it struck?” 
I asked. “ I didn’t see you.” 


2I6 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


You couldn’t very well,” grinned Jim, as you 
were holding on tight to the bottom of the wagon 
with your eyes shut.” 

I thought I would see enough,” I replied, 
“ when the cyclone took me upstairs.” 

“ If it had not been for my fast driving, it would 
have struck us all right,” said Jim ; it would have 
been a comical sight to have seen you and Tom 
soaring around like little birdies with your coat- 
tails spread out.” 

“ You haven’t told us what happened to you,” I 
replied severely. 

Oh, when it hit us I just flew out of the front 
of the wagon and took a few turns on the prairie. 
You would have laughed to have seen Ben. He 
was going around in circles about ten feet off from 
the ground and his feet spread out like a scared 
cat and he was howling to beat the wind.” 

I bet his hair turned white in a single second,” 
I said. 

“ Except what was blown off,” put in Tom. 

We finally persuaded Ben to come out from 
under the wagon, where he had taken refuge, but 
he did not seem to be especially damaged, except 
his feelings, which had evidently undergone a se- 
vere shock. He howled like a good fellow when 
we laid hands on him. 

What makes a cyclone ? ” I asked. 


THE CYCLONE 


217 


“ I didn’t have time to examine this one,” said 
Jim, ^'it came and went too quick. I guess it’s 
the Devil that makes ’em.” 

“ I have read that cyclones will take the water 
right out of the stream,” said Tom. 

They must get pretty thirsty in Kansas,” said 
Jim. 

“ I have heard, too, that they will cut a house 
square in two, just as slick as if it had been done 
with a knife.” 

‘‘ It is a kind of buzz-saw effect,” said Jim. 
“ There’s no denying that.” 

“ Let’s drive over to the ranche and see what’s 
left,” said Tom. 

Mostly ground I guess,” said Jim. 

So we drove across country to see if our near- 
est neighbors needed any assistance. We looked 
carefully, but there was no vestige of house or 
barn or fences. There were only two bare spots 
where the house and barn had stood a short time 
before. 

We looked around carefully, but could find no 
sign of any human, being around. 

Hello,” cried Jim, pointing back of us and 
into the air. ‘‘ Here comes Grandpa Sikes float- 
ing back to his ranche.” 

We gazed upward in great alarm and awe. 

“ Where, where ? ” we cried. 


218 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


Jim rolled on the ground in a paroxysm of 
laughter. 

Oh dear, dear, you two innocents will be the 
death of me,” and he went into another convul- 
sion. 

While he was in this helpless state we sat on him 
and pummelled him good. 

That will do, boys ; that will do,” he said, 
throwing us off, “you have had enough exercise 
for one day.” 

“We will make you think that a cyclone has 
struck you for fair,” said Tom, “ if you try any 
more of your fool jokes on us.” 

“ Grandpa Sikes was a good one,” chuckled Jim, 
“ I don’t know what would happen to you boys if 
I wasn’t along to take care of you. You need 
a guardian.” 

“You’ll need a doctor if you get too funny,” 
growled Tom. 

“ Now, Tommy, don’t get excited,” warned Jim, 
“the weather is quite cool and there is no excuse 
for your getting hot. You must be governed by 
the weather, you know.” 

To this the exasperated Tom had nothing to say. 
He was speechless, which was a very unusual con- 
dition for him. 

“ There is no use waiting any longer for Grand- 


THE CYCLONE 


219 


pa Slices,” said Jim, ‘^we might just as well be 
starting west.” 

“ Yes, we will be soon near the mountains and 
we won’t be bothered then.” 

“ But there will be Indians,” said Tom, ‘‘ and they 
are worse.” 

Both statements were true. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


OUR FIRST ANTELOPE 

We were getting into the country where the 
game was more abundant and it seemed like the real 
West. One day Jim sighted a herd of fifteen 
or twenty antelope a mile and a half to the north of 
us. 

“ You can stay with the wagon, Jo,” Jim said, 
** and we will drive the herd down your way.” 

‘‘ All right,” I said, “ then I will corral them.” 

“ Better drive the wagon down in the gully out 
of sight,” said Tom. 

This was done and the two boys, taking their 
rifles, crawled over the ridge and were soon lost to 
sight. It was hot down in the shallow arroyo, so I 
shoved the seat back in the wagon, out of the sun, 
and lay down on it with my knees up and my hat 
over my eyes, thinking over the past with it’s inci- 
dents and adventures, and then my mind wandered 
home and I wondered what the folks were doing 
and how long it would be before we saw them 
again. I must have laid there for a half hour, and 
was almost asleep when I heard the sound of dis- 


220 


OUR FIRST ANTELOPE 


221 


tant shots and then I sat lazily up on the seat, but 
in two minutes I was wide awake, and jumped for 
my rifle. There along the ridge running one be- 
hind the other were six antelope, moving in a semi- 
circle, their legs going with the combined speed of 
chain lightning and their heads in the air. 

I jumped to the ground and began firing in rapid 
succession. I aimed at the big buck in the lead 
but the bullet struck the dirt this side of him and 
my next shot went high. The last in line was a 
young doe, and I aimed just back of the shoulder 
and the antelope fell in a huddled heap. How 
proud and elated I felt as I ran to where it lay. 

It was the first antelope I had seen nearby. The 
hair was long and coarse, changing from rather a 
dark gray to lighter at the ends. The eyes were 
brown and bulgy. The rump was covered with 
white hair. This was always the signal as a herd 
took flight and disappeared. It was as though they 
waved good-byes with white handkerchief and it was 
sure enough good-bye for if they once took fright 
they were off like the wind. You could see their 
speed in the shape of the legs. They were remark- 
ably slender, with little hoofs. The muscles must 
have been like steel wire. 

I wondered if the boys had better luck than I 
had. Leastways I was going to surprise them. So 
I drove the wagon up as close to the antelope as 


222 


TH^ FRONTIER BOYS 


the horses would go, for they were afraid of it, 
and began to snort and shy as soon as they smelled 
the blood. 

As I lifted it to put it in the front of the wagon, 
they started to run and I dropped the antelope and 
took after them. The lines were trailing on the 
ground and before they got under full headway I 
grabbed the reins and jabbing my heels into the 
ground, I pulled and yanked but they dragged me 
fifteen or twenty feet before I got them stopped. 
Then I made them go around in a circle till I 
brought them to the place they had started from. 
They were so nervous and shifty that I did not dare 
to try the experiment of putting the antelope in the 
front of the wagon, so I unfastened the iron rod in 
the end gate and taking it out, I got, after much 
effort, the antelope into the back of the wagon under 
the bed. 

I was in a hurry, for I did not want the boys to 
get back before I had my prize safely hidden. I 
had just got back on the seat when I saw them 
bobbing serenely over the ridge. 

“ Hello, boys,’’ I yelled, “ I suppose you have got 
a wagon-load of antelope.^’ 

But I could tell by their subdued manner that 
they had not had much luck. 

“ They got wind of us,” explained Tom, as he 
came up, “ and we only got some chance shots.” 


OUR FIRST ANTELOPE 


223 


You ought to have let me come along,” I said, 
“ and I could have picked one off for you.” 

"‘Oh, yes,” laughed Jim, sarcastically, ‘‘you’re 
a grand shot. You had better stick to your bowie 
knife and leave Tom and me to do the heavy firing.” 

“ Yes, I know,” I said, “ that you are two won- 
ders. Well, I’ll watch you miss antelope until I 
learn how.” 

I retired to the back of the wagon, while Jim 
and Tom sat on the front seat. Unobserved, I 
managed to drag the animal from the bed and 
shoved it under the boys’ feet. Tom happened to 
look down and saw the brown, staring eyes looking 
up at him. My ! how he did jump and Jim followed 
suit. 

“ Gee whillikins ! What is that? ” Tom cried, as 
he tucked his feet upon the seat. 

“ Be careful, girls,” I laughed, “ it’s a mouse.” 
Then they recognized what it was. 

“ Where in thunder did you get it? ” asked Tom. 

“ Killed it,” I said, “ did you think that I had 
bought it at a butcher shop? ” They could scarcely 
believe their eyes. 

“ Ha, ha,” I laughed, “ you are mighty hunters. 
Teach me, will you ? When I get time I will give 
you a few lessons.” 

Though they felt chagrined, still they kept good 
natured under my bantering, because they were 


224 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


pleased to have a chance to try Avhat an antelope 
steak tasted like. 

We had now left the region of the Arkansas 
River, and were once more on the main overland 
route. It was now the middle of July and the 
plains were sizzling hot. We had not come across 
any water since morning and were suffering from 
thirst. 

“Would you rather die of hunger or thirst?’^ 
asked Tom. 

“ Hunger,” I said, because I did not feel like eat- 
ing just then. 

“ I tell you what I would like to have and that is 
a glass of sarsaparilla with cracked ice in it,” said 
Jim. 

“ Give me a bottle of ginger ale right out of the 
refrigerator on the back porch,” said Tom. 
“ What’s your order, Jo ? ” 

“ You can give me some warm Arkansas ale off 
the sands,” I said, “ it would taste all right.” 

But honestly, boys, I don’t believe there is any 
torture like that of thirst. Especially in mid-sum- 
mer on the scorching plains and in an uncertain 
state of mind, as to when you were to strike water 
again. The horses were beginning to feel the need 
of it. They went along at a fagged, discouraged 
trot, the salty sweat white under the harness. 


OUR FIRST ANTELOPE 


225 


** Hurrah, boys,’’ yelled Jim, “ there’s a lake 
ahead of us and some trees around it.” 

Where?” Tom and I questioned, eagerly. 

“ There, don’t you see, about two miles oif, and 
to the right of the road.” 

“ Yes, we see it,” exclaimed Tom and I together. 

Won’t it be fine to take a swim, when we get 
there,” said Jim, enthusiastically. We haven’t 
been in the water since we left Missouri.” 

Those trees look beautiful, too,” I said, “and 
it will be nice to rest in the shade of the trees.” 

“ That water is a beautiful blue,” remarked Tom, 
“ almost like the ocean.” 

So we traveled on in high spirits, much refreshed 
by the sight of the lake ahead. We drove and 
drove and still it kept at the same distance from us. 

“ Why, that’s funny,” said Jim, “ we don’t seem 
to get any closer to it.” 

Then the miserable truth dawned upon us. 

“ I know why that lake don’t get any nearer. 
It’s because it’s a mirage,” said Tom. “Just 
exactly like we have studied about in our 
geographies.” 

Our disappointment was bitter, as bitter as our 
thirst, but still we could not help but look in curios- 
ity at this strange and beautiful sight, framed in 
the shimmering waves of heat that seemed to undu- 


226 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


late towards the horizon. That evening the sun 
went down angrily in the haze, a red ball of flame. 

We had to make a dry camp that night and it is 
hard to make you realize the discomfort and misery 
of it. We could eat nothing with relish for our 
mouths were dry and parched. The horses stood 
with sadly drooping heads, not caring to graze. 
Jim was the most resourceful and undaunted, while 
Tom was gloomy and I was inclined to be peevish. 

“ Fm not going to mope around, I am going to 
find water, he said decisively. 

Perhaps you can discover another lake,” I said 
caustically. 

“ Anyway, if I don’t, I will try for an artesian 
well.” 

And he went to the wagon and got the pick and 
shovel, which we were going to use in our mining 
operations, when we got out in the mountains of 
Colorado. 

I’ll take the shovel,” I said, but where are you 
going to dig? This looks hard and dry as a brick 
around here.” 

'‘We will have to prospect some,” said Jim, “ it 
looks like lower ground down there; we will have 
a look at it.” 

After looking carefully around Jim quickly seized 
on a certain spot. 

“ Here’s the place,” he said, “ where this wire 


OUR FIRST ANTELOPE 


227 

grass grows. It looks like there might be some 
chance.’’ 

So he peeled off his gray flannel shirt, threw his 
hat on the ground, and began to dig in with the 
pick and I hastily threw the dirt out. When we 
had gone down two feet the earth began to get 
damp and in a short time the water began to ooze 
up and we got enough for ourselves and the horses. 
It certainly tasted good after our long fast. We 
had also learned something of value and importance 
and that the dark green wire grass was a sure sign 
of water, which was a good thing to know in a 
thirsty land. 

Even in these late days some of you boys might 
be traveling and camping out in a country where 
water is scarce and it will be well to know all the 
signs and indications of water. 

'' I have heard of people,” said Tom, that even- 
ing, “who could tell where water was with a 
stick.” 

“ How, I should like to know ? ” I said. 

“ You remember that old farmer, who lived over 
the hill from us. The one who had that fierce 
Jersey bull?” 

“ Yes, I recollect how we used to get the bull on 
the rampage, waving things at him and then make 
[for the fence.” 

“ He told me that he could find water on his place 


228 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


by cutting an apple stick and carrying it in his 
hands and when he came to a place where there 
was water the stick would turn in his hand and 
sometimes almost twist out of it. Then he would 
dig and find water without any trouble.” 

“ I have tried that,” declared Jim, “ and it don’t 
work. We would wait a jolly long time here in 
Kansas before we would find an apple tree to cut 
a stick otf from, to find water.” 

“ I believe some people can do that,” I said, “ it 
depends on the person. Just like some people can 
move tables with their hands on them.” 

May be so,” said Jim, but out here in Kansas 
give me the wire grass.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 

THE STRANGE MAN 

The next morning we went to see how our well 
was and found it quite full of water. 

We ought to mark this in some way so that if 
anybody should come along here they could locate 
it,” said Jim. 

I don’t know what we can use,” said Tom, 
“ there’s no boards or anything of the kind.” 

‘‘ The best we can do is to tie this white rag to 
that tall sunflower stock,” said Jim, “ and perhaps 
someone will come along with more wood than we 
have and set up a sign.” 

‘‘ I tell you, Jim,” I said, put this tin can up 
there and then they will be more than likely to 
recognize what the sign is for.” 

■“We will have to put up a bottle,” laughed Jim, 
“ for the judge won’t recognize anything else.” 

This being done we started on the road again. 
Every once in a while we scanned the western 
horizon expecting to see the big range rise up be- 
fore which was the goal of our travels. We were 

229 


230 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


anxious to see who would be the first to sight them. 
Tom stood the best chance because his keen gray 
eyes were like a sailor’s and could see things at 
a great distance. 

One afternoon I was driving and the two boys 
were lying in the back of the wagon dozing. It 
was not so hot as you might think, under the can- 
yas, for the back of the wagon was open and there 
was quite a draught through and it was quite 
luxurious to lie back there while the horses jogged 
gently along. And many a pleasant day dream 
did we indulge in of what we would do when we 
returned home. How glad we would be to see the 
folks and how proud they would be to see their 
boys, who had been through so many perils on the 
plains and in the mountains. 

I dare say Tom and Jim were indulging in some 
such reverie when I disturbed them. 

Hip-hurrah,” I cried, standing up on the wagon 
seat and waving my hat. “ There are the moun- 
tains, hurrah ! ” 

“ What’s the fuss now,” said Tom, getting up and 
coming rapidly to the front. 

“ Where are the mountains ? ” questioned Jim. 

“ Don’t you see, right ahead there,” I said, point- 
ing with an excited forefinger. 

It does look kind of like ’em,” Jim said, withi 
snow on top.” 


THE STRANGE MAN 


231 


Tom now got on the bridge and with his hand 
shading his eyes, scanned the horizon carefully. 

'' Ho, ho ! ” he laughed, derisively, “ your moun- 
tains are nothing but clouds.'* 

“ Get out," I said, angrily, of course it is the 
mountains. It’s about time we saw them." 

“ Yes, just as much mountains as that lake was 
water, that we saw." 

Tom was right, for what my excited imagina- 
tion took for mountains were really clouds. But 
it was not so ludicrous a mistake as you might 
think, for often afterwards we saw distant ranges 
of snow-capped mountains that looked as fair and 
white and insubstantial as summer clouds. 

I guess if you are going to see so many things 
that ain’t visible, that I will do the driving," said 
Tom, there’s no telling what you may run us 
into." 

I don’t care about driving all the time," I said, 
“ you are getting entirely too fat lolling around. 
What’s the number of my section, Portah, any- 
way ? " 

“ You have lower eight," he grinned, “ also occu- 
pied by the gentleman with the loud snore and the 
cowhide boots.” 

'' I hope he don’t kick in his sleep," I said, 
« that’s all." 

Being in a facetious mood, I tried to pull the 


232 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


gent’s boots off, but he resisted vigorously. And 
soon we were engaged in a rough and tumble roll- 
ing over and over. Finally I got Jim on his back, 
for I was pretty active, though Jim was the older. 
I could see Jim was mad, the way he had his teeth 
clinched and I ought to have been more on my 
guard. Suddenly he brought his knees up against 
my chest and gave a tremendous shove and back 
I went out of the wagon into the dust of the road. 

The horses were trotting pretty fast and it was a 
hard fall I tell you, and it jarred the breath com- 
pletely out of me. Tom stopped the horses as quick 
as he could, and he and Jim ran back in a hurry. 
They were scared, too, because I was too stunned 
to get up right away. 

“ You ain’t hurt, are you, Jo? ” asked Jim, solicit- 
ously, “ I didn’t go to kick you so far.” 

Tom began to render first aid to the injured after 
ascertaining that I had no bones broken. I ob- 
jected to his methods as best I could. 

“ I ain’t drowning, leave me be,” I protested, 
feebly. 

You see, Tom only knew the method of restor- 
ing the drowned to consciousness, and he had to 
use it on me. It was the same principle as that 
employed by the old Missouri doctor, who only knew 
how to cure fits, so he would throw his patients into 
fits, then cure the fits. In about ten minutes I was 


THE STRANGE MAN 


233 


pretty well restored, due more to the ruggedness of 
my natural constitution than to Tom’s heroic treat- 
ment, which I was not heroic enough to stand for. 

But I was quite willing to lie perfectly quiet in 
the back of the wagon, and not mix it with brother 
Jim, who was likewise willing to leave me alone, as 
I had been so good natured as not to break my neck 
or a leg when he kicked me out of the end of the 
wagon’ So thereafter we conversed quite amiably 
for awhile. 

What will you do when we get home, Jim? ” I 
asked. 

Come back West,” he replied, laconically. 

“ I should like to get back just in time to see 
the big baseball game between our school and the 
Morris High. Wouldn’t it be a surprise to them 
though?” 

Oh, I know you,” grinned Jim, you want to 
be the conquering hero style. You will stride into 
the arena in top boots and rough corduroy suit, your 
face bronzed with the suns of many deserts. Then 
all the girls will sit up and ask who is that dark 
and fascinating stranger. Then somebody will 
say : 

“ Oh, don’t you know, that’s Jo Darlington, just 
come back from the Wild West. How sweet he 
looks in that suit.” 

“ Just too lovely.” 


234 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ Not for me. No, no, never,” and Jim put up a 
protesting hand. 

You needn’t worry,” I said, nobody will pay 
any attention to you when I’m around.” 

I’ve half a mind to kick you out again,” warned 

Jim. 

After that the conversation ceased and we were 
dozing contentedly and peacefully. When sud- 
denly a terrific scream or yell broke the somnolent 
silence. It seemed to come from the back of the 
wagon. 

“Great Heavens, what was it?” I asked. 

“It was some sort of a man, I just got sight of 
him as he jumped up. My but he was a fright.” 

“Where’s he gone to?'*’ I asked. 

Then as if in answer to my question there came 
a long drawn out peculiar moan, almost like the 
Cry of some wild animal. 

“What are you afraid of?” cried Tom, putting 
on the brake hard and jumping out from the front, 
then Jim and I scrambled out of the back and onto 
the ground in a hurry. 

We were just in time to see Tom get bowled over 
by a man with long, flying hair, barefoot, with a 
ragged shirt and his pants held by a rope around 
his waist. We were all out of the wagon and with 
a wonderful quickness the man sprang into the 
front seat and started the horses off. 


THE STRANGE MAN 


235 


It was one of the worst situations that we had 
ever got in. For if he got away with our team 
we were left without food, or water or even our 
rifles on the lonely and inhospitable plains. For- 
tunately the brakes held back the wagon some, 
though they were not on hard, yet it was down 
grade and the horses were frightened as the man 
yelled to them wildly. 

I sprang forward instantly in pursuit. Never in 
all my different experiences did I run so fast. I 
simply flew over the ground. As soon as I got 
going I began to overhaul the flying wagon. I did 
not have time to think of what I would do when I 
caught up with it. I caught up with it in about 
three hundred yards and pulled myself into the back 
of the wagon. The man was standing up on the 
seat, driving like mad, and looking back, but he had 
not seen me climb into the back of the wagon, nor 
could he hear me, on account of the rattling. 

I sprang for him, throwing him into the back of 
the wagon, and yanking the horses to a stop. This 
was lucky for it gave Jim a chance to come up, for 
he was about a hundred feet behind when I reached 
the wagon. The man was up in an instant and 
with a terrible grip he had pulled me back into the 
wagon. I struggled in fury and fright. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


THE OVERLAND 

I AM not apt to forget that man as he struggled 
to get me by the throat. His grip was like iron. 
He had more than an ordinary man’s strength. I 
used every trick I knew to get free but he finally 
got his knee on my chest. Would Jim never come? 
Then he come tearing into the wagon like a cannon 
ball. Seizing the heavy whip he brought the butt 
end down on the man’s head with all his strength 
and the fellow swayed, stunned, and Jim was on 
him like a tiger, bearing him to the floor. 

I got up breathless, but fiercely determined. 

“ Here, Jim,” I cried, “ we will tie him with this 
rope.” 

Jim did not have to be urged. We tied his hands 
behind him, instead of to his sides for in the latter 
case, with such phenomenal strength, he could have 
worked himself free. Then Jim sat on his legs till 
I had them securely fastened. Tom came running 
up, in great alarm. 

“ Have you got him ? ” he yelled. 

236 


THE OVERLAND 


237 


“ Fast and tight/’ said Jim, “ but he was a hard 
broncho to lasso.” 

The man lay helpless on the floor, but there was 
something terrible and dangerous about him, with 
his eyes glaring at us like a wild animal’s, his hair 
was long, coming down over his shoulders and his 
beard was heavy and matted. 

“ Where do you suppose he came from ? ” asked 
Tom, “ he could not have jumped from the ground.” 

“ What are we to do with him? ” I asked. ‘‘We 
are not running a museum for wild men.” 

Then we heard the loud crack of a whip and the 
rumble of a heavy vehicle. 

“What do you suppose that is?” asked Jim, 
“ for a desert country there seems to be a good deal 
doing.” 

“ Hey, there, strangers,” yelled a rancous voice, 
“ come out of there, we want to meet you.” 

“ We are coming,” said Jim, and suiting the 
action to the word, he jumped out into the road. 
I and Tom followed immediately, and our astonished 
eyes saw a four-horse stage, filled with pasengers. 
The driver was a smooth-shaven young fellow, 
with a sombrero and a rifle near him with a couple 
of pistols in his belt. I say he was young but no- 
body would have been inclined to trifle with him 
on that score. Because from the expression of his 
face you could see that he was strictly business. 


238 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ Waal, boys, are you traveling alone ? he ashed, 

this is bad country to be lose in.’^ 

We liked him because he did not give us any 
guff about being kids. 

“Yes,’' Jim answered, “there is three of us, and 
we manage all right.” 

“ I reckon you kin look out for yourselves pretty 
well. Have you seen anything of a runaway man ? ” 

“ Sure,” replied Jim, “ we have got him lassoed 
and corraled in the wagon.” 

“Hoe-e-e,” he whistled, in surprise, “you fel- 
lows are huskies all right. He’s wild, crazy, that 
fellow’s locoed.” 

“ You can have him,” said Jim, “ we are not 
running an orphan asylum.” 

“ All right. Bill and I will take care of him.” 

The two of them got down from the stage and 
togther they lifted the wild man out of the wagon. 

“ You boys certainly did a good job,” they said, 
as they examined the ropes. 

“ I guess you will have to let us have that rope,” 
said Jim, “ we need it to lariat our horses.” 

Of course, young fellow,” said the driver, and 
he got a rawhide lariat from the coach. No sooner 
were the ropes loosened than the man sprang to his 
feet and wrenched himself away from Bill, who was 
taken by surprise. He made for the wagon, in- 
tending probably to get some weapon. Jim was 


THE OVERLAND 


239 


too quick for him, for he flung himself in a low 
tackle at the man’s knees and before he could get 
up, the driver and Bill flung themselves upon him. 
Even then it was a terrible struggle and we boys 
had to help before he could be firmly secured. 
Finally it was accomplished. 

The driver wiped the sweat from his face. “ You 
boys were considerable help in this fracas. I 
wouldn’t mind having you along when we run into 
Injuns.” 

We knew that this was a compliment from the 
right source, and we appreciated it accordingly. 

“ Who is this fellow ? ” asked Jim, “ he didn’t wait 
for an introduction, but just helped himself to our 
outfit and skedaddled.” 

Oh, he ain’t responsible, poor fellow, we picked 
him up several days ago on the prairie, just running 
wild. We couldn’t catch him nohow. So Bill took 
one of the leaders and chased after him till he could 
get close enough to lasso him.” 

“ How did he ever get way out here? ” asked Jim. 
“ There isn’t any lunatic asylum around this part of 
the state.” 

No, but there ought to be,” said the driver, 
'‘We have got the beginnings of one right now in 
the stage. There’s three fellows we picked up 
who were trying to sail a wagon across the prairie 
and got busted down and we had to rescue them.” 


240 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ I bet it was the judge and those two guys,” 
said Jim; “was there two fellows with handker- 
chiefs around their necks and little toy pistols ? ” 

“ The same,” declared the driver, “ and the old 
gent with ’em is quite a sport and wears a long- 
tail coat.” 

“ That’s the party,” declared Tom, “ but where 
are they? Those two boys ought to be out here 
with their popguns kicking up a dust.” 

“ Oh, they are inside there,” said Bill, pointing 
to the stage, “ snoring away, peaceful as kittens.” 

“ All three drunk,” said the driver, “ but this fel- 
low is different. Fm kind of sorry for him, be- 
cause I figure that he has been captured by the In- 
juns, there’s some of their trademarks on his body. 
I shouldn’t be surprised if he has been a ranchman 
and them Injuns have swooped down on his place 
and killed his wife and children, after their style and 
taken this fellow off. Then he’s gone crazy and 
those redskins are afraid as death of a crazy per- 
son, and they turned him loose on the plains, and 
he has been roaming around like a wild animal un- 
til we found him. 

“ How did he get away from you ? ” I asked. 

“ Oh, he’s cunning, all right,” said the driver, 
“ and he was so quiet and well behaved for a day or 
two, that we quit watching him close and the first 
chance he got he broke and run and if you fellows 


THE OVERLAND 


241 


hadn’t stopped him he would have been running 
yet. I suppose you boys are going into the moun- 
tains, like everybody else, to make your fortunes.” 

“ Yes,” said Tom, “ that’s exactly what we are 
after.” 

“ Well, I wish you luck,” said the driver. If 
you could only keep up, we would like your com- 
pany, but we travel fast with four horses. You 
want to look out, you will be in the Indian coun- 
in a few days. Instead of taking the south fork 
of the road if I were you boys, I would take the road 
to the north. The forks are at the next road sta- 
tion, thirty-five miles from here. The Apaches have 
been raiding the regular line and they are bad 
devils to get mixed with. Well, we will have to be 
starting.” 

“ We will help you get this man into the stage,” 
said Jim. This we did and fitted him in snugly 
between Percy and Spencer, who were sleeping 
the sleep of the drunk. We laughed to think of 
their surprise when they would wake up and find 
a crazy man between them. 

“ I reckon they will think that they have got the 
D. T.,” said Tom. 

Goodbye,” said the driver, shaking us each by 
the hand. What a grip he had. 

'' I hope ril run across you boys again.” 

It can’t be too soon,” Jim said and to this Tom 


242 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


and I also cordially agreed. As the team started he 
raised his hands as though draining a glass. 

“ Here’s luck.” 

Then with a flourish and crack of the whip the 
four-horse stage swept down the road at a rattling 
gait and before it disappeared in a cloud of dust, the 
driver waved his gauntleted hand at us and we 
waved out hats in return. 

‘‘ He’s fine,” declared Tom, “ I like that fellow.” 

“Just the kind you can tie to,” said Jim. 

“ He isn’t at all like the stage driver you read 
about in Wild West books, and he uses good gram- 
mar too. I bet he isn’t just an ordinary frontiers- 
man.” 

“ He knows his business, though,” said Jim. 
“ Did you see how he handled that team ? ” 

“ And he has a good eye in his head. I bet the 
Indians wouldn’t spring any ambushes on him,” I 
concluded. 

We found in our travels that though we ran 
across a good many hard characters, still there were 
always a few good, honest men thrown in. “ Men 
whom you could tie to,” as Tom said. If there 
were the horse thieves and the renegade Indian 
whom we had met in our travels, there were also 
Mr. Hoskins and his family and this stage driver, 
whom we had taken a fancy to. 

“ What do you think about taking the north 


THE OVERLAND 


243 


road, as the stage driver advised?’’ asked Tom. 

“ I think it would be a mighty good thing,” I said, 
“ I don’t want any more excitement of any kind. 
With Injuns creeping up on me at night and crazy 
men jumping up behind us in the middle of the day, 
I feel the need of a rest.” 

“ I guess we had better do as he said,” admitted 
Jim, though I thought rather regretfully; ‘‘we will 
find enough Indians when we get to the mountains, 
without mixing with them on the plains.” 


CHAPTER XXIX 


THE DRY CREEK 

That night we camped in the dry bed of a creek, 
with it’s thirsty sands and white bald rocks, with 
a stunted growth of cottonwoods along the banks. 
Here and there were pools of water, but that was all 
the moisture there was, and we had to make the 
best of it. 

“ I wish I could see a nice, clear, running stream, 
like we have back East,’" said Tom, “ I’m getting 
sick of this dry country.’’ 

“ You wait until we get to the mountains,” said 
Jim, “ and you will see some fine streams, I prom- 
ise you that.” 

“ And trout in ’em, too,” I said. 

“ I bet we will live high when we get there,” said 
Jim. ‘‘ Mountain trout for breakfast and grous 
for supper.” 

“ There is no doubt about our living high, about 
ten or fifteen thousand feet,” I said. 

“ Don’t get funny, Jo,” said Jim, and he and Tom 
sat on me simultaneously. 

Do you suppose that we will get up as high 
244 


THE DRY CREEK 


245 


as fifteen thousand feet ? ’’ asked Tom, after my 
discipline was over. 

“ Pike’s Peak is nearly fifteen thousand feet,” 
said Jim. 

“ No,” I replied, “ the geography says that it is 
14,147 feet high.” 

I prided myself on my accuracy and if the boys 
would not let me make puns, I was willing to show 
my superiority in some other way. 

“ Oh, you are a wise guy,” jeered Jim, “what’s 
the difference of a few feet anyway ? ” 

“ You would find it would make a big difference 
if you had to climb the Peak.” 

“ Look up north, boys,” exclaimed Tom, “ there’s 
going to be a terrible storm to-night, if looks count 
for anything.” 

“ It does looks black,” said Jim. “ We will have 
to tack down the tent good and fast.” 

“ I guess you boys had better sleep in the wagon 
to-night, even if it is crowded,” I said. 

After some discussion, the boys agreed to this. 
We stood watching the storm come up over the 
plains. 

“ The last few days have certainly been weather 
breeders,” I said, “ so awful hot. It will be a nice 
thing to have plenty of water.” 

It was a fascinating sight. The great mass of 
blackly rolling clouds with white messengers of 


246 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


flying clouds going before. Then there was a 
continual flash of lightning and crash of thunder. 
Now came the solid front of gray falling water 
sweeping over the plains toward us and it struck 
us with a great rush of wind. The horses turned 
tail to it with heads bent down. We jumped into 
the wagon and put up the rubber apron to keep 
the rain out of the front, but in spite of its protec- 
tion the rain came in. 

“ We are bright ones,’’ exclaimed Jim, we ought 
to have turned the wagon with its tail to the 
storm.” 

'' Let’s do it now,” said Jim. 

“ We will get soaking wet,” I objected. 

** What’s the diff, we will anyway,” replied Tom, 

if we don’t do something.” 

“ I tell you, boys, let’s go in swimming, or out 
swimming,” said Jim. 

And he threw his clothes off in a jiffy, and we 
followed suit Then out we went into the warm 
rain. It was fine sport, a veritable shower bath. 
We hauled and shoved the wagon until we finally 
got it’s back to the storm. The horses looking on 
in great interest and more or less astonishment. 
Then we skylarked around trying to roll each other 
in the mud. We managed to get Jim Sown and 
gave him a good rolling till he looked as black as 


a coon. 


THE DRY CREEK 


247 


But our romp was soon brought to a stop. 

“ What's that hit me on the back ? ” I said. 

“Quit throwing stones at me," yelled Jim, “or 
I'll give you both a good licking." 

“ It's hailing," exclaimed Tom. 

It certainly was and we made a dash for the 
wagon, with the hail coming faster and faster, and 
striking all around us and sometimes hitting us 
smartly on the backs and the legs, but it did not 
take us many seconds to get into the wagon. 

“ We will have to do something for the horses," 
said Jim, “ they can't stand this bombardment very 
long." 

So we hastily put on some old clothes and pulling 
our hats down over our foreheads, we were ready 
with the blankets which were the only protection 
we could afford the animals. 

“ It's just like a battle," said Jim, “ the bullets 
come just as fast as this." 

“ That's why they speak of a hail of bullets," I 
said. 

“Well, we will see who gets killed first," said 
Jim. “ The one who gets hit in the head is dead." 

“ All right," we agreed, and ventured out in the 
storm. Tho hail fell thickly around us, covering 
the ground with white bullets. It was no use trying 
to dodge. I got a glancing shot on either shoulder, 
but not enough to disable me. I saw Jim get a 


248 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


couple of wounds in the leg. Then crash, Tom was 
struck square on top of the head and the hailstone 
bounced up in the air. 

“ You’re dead,” I yelled. 

“No I ain’t,” declared Tom, vigorously, “ it only 
jarred me a little.” 

“ It didn’t hit him in a vital place,” laughed Jim. 

When we reached the horses they were shivering 
and cowering under the attack of the storm. We 
threw the blankets over the two and fastened them 
securely, and this was a good deal of protection to 
them. Then we rushed back to the wagon and, 
taking off our clothes, we rubbed down thoroughly 
and turned in for the night. The storm con- 
tinued with unabated violence but we slept snug as 
three bugs in a rug. 

I do not know what time it was but something 
woke me up. It was still raining, but more gently 
and there were occasional flashes of lightning. 

“ What’s that noise ? ” I asked, waking up the 
two boys. 

There was a continuous steady roar all around 
ns. We hastened to look out. 

“My heavens! Just look,” exclaimed Jim. 

It was enough to make anyone exclaim with fear. 
Where there had been the dry bed of a creek was a 
raging river, swirling all around the wagon and a 
little further out was the main current humping 


THE DRY CREEK 


24^ 


miidily along at a great rate. Trunks of trees and 
trees themselves were coming tum.bling down on the 
current. It was a dangerous and ugly situation. 

“ Lucky the horses are lariated out of danger/' 
said Jim. 

“ What are we to do/’ I asked, “ it's still rising 
and the wagon is liable to be carried off with us 
in it.” 

Just then crash came a tree against the box of the 
wagon, and in a short time the water began to come 

in. 

This won’t do,” said Jim, vigorously, “ we have 
got to get that tree loose.” 

Cautiously he got out of the wagon and down into 
the swirling water. 

“ My, but it is cold ! ” he exclaimed. 

“ It sure is,” I shivered, ” it’s like ice.” 

“ That’s the hail,” said Jim. 

We all three worked around to the side of the 
wagon where the tree was, the wind waving the 
branches that were above the water. The stream 
was above our waists. We worked furiously and 
finally got the trunk of the tree around and cast it 
loose. Then the current took it out into the stream, 
where it rolled slowly over and over. The wagon 
being thus freed of the tree acted no more as a dam 
and the water went down below the bed. We 
climbed back in and held a council of war. 


250 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


*'We have got to get out of here,” I said, my 
teeth chattering from cold and excitement, or we 
will be drowned.” 

We can’t give up the ship,” said Jim. 

“ There’s no chance to get the horses in here. 
They would go wild,” remarked Tom. 

“ We must think of some scheme, and quick too,” 
said Jim, the water is rising fast. (The question is 
what would you boys do who are reading this, if 
you were in our shoes? It’s up to you.) 

I tell you what,” said Jim, ‘‘ there is just one 
thing to do. I will carry the two harnesses and you 
two get the whiffle-trees and all the rope we have.” 

We put this plan into immediate execution, 
though we did not know exactly what Jim was 
after, still we had a general idea. 

It was hard work getting the whiffle-tree loose 
from the tongue under the water, but we finally 
managed it. By this time Jim had the horses har- 
nessed and we made them go as close -to the wagon 
as we could, though they were terribly nervous, 
jumping and snorting, but we finally got the rope 
fast to the hind axle of the wagon, the other end 
being attached to the whiffle-tree. Tom and I held 
the tongue and guided the wagon while Jim urged 
the horses and though it was hard to start, when it 
got to going it did not take us long to get the wagon 
to dry land. 


THE DRY CREEK 


251 


We were pretty well exhausted after our hard 
work in the water. It was about as disagreeable an 
adventure as we had so far experienced and we were 
mighty thankful to get out of it as well as we did. 

“ I guess you won’t complain about there being 
no water in Kansas, Tom,” grinned Jim. 

‘‘ I don’t care for it all in one lump,” replied 
Tom, “it’s possible to get too much of a good 
thing.” 

“ I reckon we won’t need a bath for a while,” 
laughed Jim. “ This ought to last us.” 

“ How are we ever going to get over the river ? ” 
I asked, “ it’s worse than the Arkansas.” 

“ We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” re- 
plied Jim, “ and that won’t be till morning. I’m 
going to turn in.” 

It was because there wasn’t any bridge to cross 
that worried me. 

Then we went to sleep for what was left of the 
balance of the night. 


CHAPTER XXX 


BEYOND THE DIVIDE — THE CROSSING 

The next morning, it was still overcast and low- 
ering, and we had a good look at the dry creek,” 
which was still a swollen river, but we could see that 
it had gone down considerably by the dirty mud 
line high up on the plain. 

How are we going to cross, I should like to 
know ? ” I asked. 

‘'We will see about that after breakfast,” said 
Jim. 

So after breakfast we hitched up and Jim took the 
ribbons. 

“Now,, are you ready?” asked Jim. “Tuck 
up your feet,” and he drove boldly in. The horses 
were nervous about going in the ugly, swirling 
stream. There is always something worrisome 
about an unknown ford. Before we reached the 
main current the wagon gave a sudden tilt and went 
way upon one side and Tom and I threw ourselves 
to the upper side while all the loose cargo shifted. 

“ I hope you don’t strike any more of those big 
boulders,” I said, when our ship finally righted her- 
self. 


252 


BEYOND THE DIVIDE 


253 


“ Don’t you worry,” said Jim stoutly, but looking 
rather pale. 

We were now approaching the main current and 
the water was getting deeper and was almost up to 
the wagon box. The horses now showed signs of 
balking and started to turn around. 

“ Here, Jo, give them the whip,” urged Jim, and 
I stood up in front and laid on with a good will. 

“ Get ap. Bill ! Get ap, Carl ! ” 

We got them straightened out and they plunged 
into the current. There was no turning back now. 
It was all the horses could do to keep their feet. 
Once Bill stumbled and almost went under. When 
he recovered his footing he plunged ahead. 

“ Hurry up, boys, there comes a tree,” yelled Tom. 

Sure enough, it was coming around the bend and 
looked as big as a house. It was a giant among 
cottonwoods, which had taken the stream a long 
time to undermine. It was bearing down directly 
upon us. Its big trunk looking like the end of a 
battering ram. I whipped the horses frantically and 
they plunged up the other bank and the branches 
of the tree struck the top of our wagon. It was 
as close as that. Then we emerged dripping but 
safe on the top of the opposite bank. 

My, but I’m glad to get out of that,” exclaimed 
Jim, it was a close call.” 

We stopped to let the horses breathe and looked 


254 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


back at the river that had given us so much work 
and trouble. 

The next time we camp in the bed of a dry 
creek with a storm coming up we ought to be 
drowned/’ declared Tom, with emphasis. 

Yes, we have certainly learned something,” said 
Jim, and we won’t forget it, either.” 

The horses having rested, we started on our jour- 
ney. About three o’clock in the afternoon, we 
reached the road house that the stage driver had 
told us about. It was a low adobe building with 
a dugout near and a shackly barn. A couple of 
dogs ran out to welcome us and barked furiously 
at Ben, who from his place of vantage in the front 
of the wagon replied with equal ferocity and perfect 
safety. A man came to the door to see the cause of 
the commotion. He looked like a regular West- 
erner, in leather chaps and broad sombrero, with a 
leather band around it ornamented with silver. 

“ You are the boys the driver told me about, 
and he said if there was anything I could do for you 
I was to. I reckon it’s no use to offer you liquor, 
for you don’t look like boys who drink.” 

“ I tell you what you might get us, some bread 
and coffee,” suggested Jim. 

“ I’ll tell the Chink to fire up,” and he went in- 
side. 

‘‘What’s a Chink, do you suppose?” Tom asked. 


BEYOND THE DIVIDE 


255 


“ I don’t know ; I suppose we will find out.” 

Hitching our team under the shed, we went in. 
It was a long, low room, with a bar at one end. 
There were a number of cheap prints on the walls. 

Down the center of the room was a plain wooden 
table without any cover. In the center there was, — 
not a bouquet, but a bottle of green pepper sauce, 
and of red tomato ketchup. 

We sat down and in about ten minutes a China- 
man came in. 

That’s the ‘ Chink,’ ” said Tom, what a funny 
name.” 

He moved noiselessly around back of us and put 
a plate of venison before us, and three big bowls 
of coffee. Then a little later he came in with some 
griddle cakes. It was a rough sort of a restaurant, 
but we thoroughly enjoyed the meal. Our host 
sat across from us, with his chair tilted back against 
the wall. And talked about various things. 

“ How are the Indians in this section ? ” I asked. 

“ Nothing doing for a month past, but they are 
raiding things south of here. Jake was saying 
that you had better take the northern roads.” 

‘‘ We have made up our minds to take that 
route,” said Jim. 

I reckon you will get through clear, but you 
want to keep your eyes peeled,” he cautioned. 

Trust us to do that,” replied Tom. 


256 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


“ I won’t worry. You can take care of your- 
selves or you wouldn’t have got this far alive. It’s 
a fine country out here, but it is exciting, and it’s 
no place for fools or smart alecks.” 

“ We found it exciting enough last night,” said 
Jim, and we told him our experience. 

He laughed heartily at our plight. 

“ It would have been a joke on you boys, if you 
had got drowned in this dry country. But I reckon 
it lamed you something.” 

“ It did that,” admitted Tom. No more camp- 
ing in dry creeks for us.” 

We had now got well filled up and prepared to 
take up our journey. 

” ril go with you boys and git you started on the 
right trail.” 

He swung himself on his broncho and jogged 
along side of the wagon talking with us and now 
and then giving us valuable pointers. After going 
several miles we came to a fork where three roads 
branched. 

“ This is your road boys,” he said. 

We thanked him heartily. 

Good luck to you,” he said as he turned and 
rode away. “ Keep your scalps on.” 

We wished him goodbye and assured him that 
we would. 

We soon got into a country that was broken, 


BEYOND THE DIVIDE 


2S7 


with hills and then broad, low mesas, covered with 
pines and we felt that we should soon be through 
with the plains and we were not sorry. For sev- 
eral days the sky was overcast with the clouds hang- 
ing low, close to the horizon. It was much cooler 
too. 

“ I wish it would do something,” said Tom, 
** either rain or clear up.” 

It was the evening of the third day after we had 
left the road house, and we had gone into camp on 
a long, rolling ridge, extending for miles and 
known in the West as “ A Divide.” 

“ I guess it will clear up,” said Jim, who always 
took a hopeful view of things. 

In the morning I woke up early and sure enough 
the sun was shining brightly. 

Hurrah ! hurrah! ” I heard Tom yelling in front 
of the tent. 

“ Pike’s Peak or Bust, rah, rah,” there was no 
mistaking his enthusiasm. 

I got out in a hurry and joined in the yelling 
myself. For there in the brilliant morning sun- 
shine, loomed clear and distinct, though miles away, 

The Great Peak,” with snow crowned summit 
and massive rocky shoulder and the lower moun- 
tains were around his great base, like a crumpled 
cloak that his strength has cast aside. 

We danced around until we were tired. 


258 


THE FRONTIER BOYS 


It's great ! " we yelled. It certainly was. And 
you cannot blame us for our enthusiasm, for you 
would have felt the same if you had been in our 
shoes. 

After breakfast we hitched up and started merrily 
off down the grade and the chapter of our lives and 
adventures on the overland trail was finished. In 
the next narrative, ‘‘ Frontier Boys in Colorado," I 
will tell of our experiences in the mountains and 
of the exciting times we had there and of our search 
for the two children who were stolen from our 
friends in Kansas, by the Indians. I can say for 
Tom and Jim, as well as for myself, that we would 
be glad to have you come along with us, and share 
our dangers and adventures. 


THE END 


THE COMRADES SERIES 


■? 



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